The Darkness
by ElGato44
Summary: After the Epilogue Hermione's life has gone downhill. Trying to start over she runs into some strange forces and government conspiracies. Involves several Crossovers as I wrote this a long time ago and had no imagination. Eventual SS/HG.
1. Chapter 1 and 2

Disclaimer: Warning: DH SPOILERS!! This story is horribly AU, but hey, it is possible, and this was conceived by twisting the creation that J.K. Rowling created. I also added a few things and characters initially developed by Top Cow's The Darkness. And I have always loved watching the show Will and Grace so as a treat I may add some characters and jokes from it just to put in humour.

1. Return to the Darkness

"Look..at..me," Snape rasped clutching Harry Potter's robes, before his sight faded to black.

_And that was the first time I died._

Hermione looked at Snape's body feeling something strange and unsure before she made her way to the tunnel trying hard not to let tears shed from her eyes.

_Your time has not come_

_Life is a lie, my blood runs through you_

_Darkness rises within you as our soul is mine_

_Love dies forever_

_You are the Darkness….._

**************************************************

Hermione Granger-Weasley entered the Three Broomsticks waving immediately at Ginny and little Lily, "Hey guys, how are you doing these days?"

Ginny beamed, "There you are! I've been meaning to speak with you for ages." She motioned to a table helping Lily into a seat. "I haven't seen you since the divorce, sorry to ask but how did it go?"

"Ginny, you know I love your family with all my heart, but what he did to me was just utterly appalling. I feel ashamed for ever marrying your brother." Hermione did her best to keep calm and tried not to upset Lily.

"I know, Mum and Dad are furious with him, as I am." Lily tugged on Ginny's sleeve, "Mummy, are you talking about Uncle Ron?"

"Shh, sweety, this is just between Aunty 'Mione and me, okay?" Ginny soothed. "So how was the split?"

Hermione's jaw clenched at the memory, "He got full custody of the kids and I'm only allowed to see them four times a month until further notice. I got the house, but he still has one third of our assets."

"But he cheated on you!" Ginny cried in disbelief. "I…I just don't believe it."

"My life's gone downhill, but at least I still have my job," Hermione grumbled as the tea appeared.

"How does the job go?"

"It's awful," Hermione breathed out as Ginny nodded knowingly pouring the tea. "The Ministry has me up to my neck with complaints about Auror abuse, and it's not even my department. Luckily I'm getting an assistant tomorrow."

"Hermione," Ginny placed a comforting hand on hers, "think of this as time to wipe away the dirt and grime, and start a new life."

Ginny's words did seem to make sense. Maybe it was time to start over. Trash everything that reminded her of Ron and find something or someone else to occupy her mind. "Thanks Ginny, you have no idea how much I appreciate your support."

"That's what girlfriends are for, right?"

*******************************************************

2. Assistants and Queens

Even nineteen years after the final fall of Voldemort the Ministry was still hanging on by the threads. The new Minister of Magic, Fielding Conway, was in polite terms a scumbag. He formerly was the Chief of the Aurory, and was possibly the main reason why most Aurors with the exception of Harry were so corrupt. Hermione herself was the head Investigator for the Department of Mysteries, working on odd cases in which strange things are reported (strange for the Wizarding world). For some reason she got stuck with reports about those scumbags.

Hermione was sorting through her files when the department secretary's voice came over the intercom.

"Miss Granger, your assistant is here to see you."

"Thank you, send him in," not five seconds later, her office door opened and a woman's unnatural, ridiculously high-pitched voice called back to the secretary, "Honey, those robes hurt like a hangover."

In came a short, buxom, classy woman with dark hair entered, wearing fancy fur robes. Turning to Hermione she bore on a scarily cheerful smile. She didn't look like an assistant at all but… "Oh hello, Honey, the name's Karen Walker. You wanted an assistant, well here I am, fabulous, and looking for the mini bar."

It was then that Hermione noticed that Karen was holding a scotch drink in her hand. Who was this woman? The name sounded familiar and she had an American accent, despite her odd voice. "Well..Karen..I'm Hermione Granger. It's a pleasure to meet you…" Hermione held out her hand to shake Karen's who responded with the same smile "Honey, I don't shake hands."

Feeling confused and worried, Hermione showed Karen her desk and went over regular duties with her but to little avail, as she kept on filing her nails. At least she will file something…

Hermione was ready to ask Karen to leave and ask if there was some sort of mistake but thought better of it. At least she could give Karen a chance.

"Honey, what's with you? What's going on? What's happening? What's with the get up?" Karen eyed her semi-frumpy attire.

"Uhmm, you wouldn't know this but I just recently went through a messy divorce."

"Oh, Hermione…" Karen paused, "My husband bought this pearl necklace in Bora Bora." She lifted her cleavage to give Hermione ample view of said necklace.

"What does that have to do with my divorce?"

Karen stared questioningly at her, "Nothing, I just thought we were just swapping stories."

Hermione rubbed her temples. Oh, this was a great start of her new life.

----------

Hermione met up with Harry for lunch the next day. She was surprised to hear that Harry's department got a new page.

"Is that so, well my new assistant started yesterday," she answered mournfully.

"Not good, eh?" Harry grinned. "If it will make you feel any better, the new page, Jack, I think his name is, he's a right flamer, he is. I didn't even need to ask him at all, as soon as entered the door, I just knew it."

"Why would you make an assumption like that?" Hermione scolded. Some things never change. Harry had always been quick to assume things without sufficient analysis. Hermione had long since tried her best teach Harry to stop jumping to conclusions.

He swallowed his Firewhiskey with a smile, "Trust me, you'd think the same thing if you saw him."

"Then you probably do not want to know what I thought of you and Ron when I first met you two."

Harry glared at her, "We were 11!"

Hermione stifled a giggle and he continued, "I don't think we were even mature enough to know what gay means." She laughed softly and he took another sip of his drink, "So anyway, who is this lovely assistant of yours?"

"She goes by the name of Karen Walker-"

"Walker?" Harry's eyebrows shot up as the lightbulb in his head went on. "Did you say…Walker?"

She stared at him warily, "Yes. Why?"

"She must be the wife of Stanley Walker."

"Who's Stanley Walker?"

"Stan Walker is one of the richest wizards in the world. He bases himself in New York, U.S. of A. But he recently moved here to be near his gillyweed harvesters."

"If she's that rich, then why is she working for me?"

Harry shrugged, "I have no idea. But hey, are those documents coming along well?"

Hermione grumbled her displeasure, "I swear, if I could get my hands on the public counselman.."

Harry eased her down by pouring her a glass of Firewhisky, "It's not his fault. If it's anyone's fault it's Vincent Shrote's fault."

Of course there was Vincent Shrote. The Chief of the Aurory after his comrade Conway became the Minister, Shrote took the honor to continue on with tradition and kept the Aurory as corrupt as ever. His department was working side-by-side with the crime syndicates of Wizarding Europe so any crimes they commit were immediately covered up by Shrote's Aurors.

Two months ago, there was an explosion at an old wizarding poultry shop and the Aurors promptly explained that a stray ember from a fire likely caused it. Anyone who heard or read that report knew that couldn't be the case. There was no reason why a fire should be anywhere in a poultry shop where they are required to keep their food stored at a constant cold temperature. Add to the fact that several separate Aurors gave different stories also had sufficient cause for worry. But what the public didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

"Yes, well, he's the source of all of our problems," She mumbled bitterly. Harry shook his head, "Well, not all of our problems. I'm sorry with what happened. I hadn't realized he took the kids too." Of course, he had to mention her divorce, and her kids. Gods she missed her kids and wanted to see them so bad, but she just couldn't bear to be in contact with Ron at the moment.

"Thanks, Harry, but I think it's time I start anew."

He could only laugh, "Now, that's the Hermione I know!"

A/N: Karen, Stan, and Jack are from Will and Grace, ahh, good times. Vincent Shrote's last name comes from the character in The Darkness game (developed by 2K Games) Eddie Shrote. Same concept too. Both dips**ts abuse their authority in both the game and in my story.


	2. Sparkly Duo and Requests

Disclaimer: Harry Potter + The Darkness + Will and Grace = me not very imaginative. Harry Potter-J.K. Rowling, The Darkness-Top Cow and 2K Games, Will and Grace-Bruce Alden

3. Sparkly Duo and Requests

Karen Walker was sitting at her desk flipping through a catalogue when a tall, blue-eyed man with a feminine voice barged in carrying a large cardboard box, "Miss Granger? Miss Granger- " He caught sight of Karen with a look of question on his face, "Are you Karen?"

She looked up from her catalogue smiling, "Yes I am, honey."

He dropped the box on Hermione's empty desk still gaping before crying, "Peter, Paul, and Mary you are fabulous!"

Karen beamed and giggled "Oh, honey….who are you?"

"I'm Jack McFarland, the new page for the Auror Department."

"Oh that's right, we've talked so many times on the intercom I can't believe we haven't met yet."

"Hey after lunch, do you want to go to Diagon Alley and laugh at heterosexual couples."

Karen beamed, "Sure, honey. Oh and Hermione will be back in a few moments, so I should let her know where I am going." Instead she picked up her bag and left with Jack.

Hermione returned from lunch with Harry to find Karen…nowhere, but a large box sitting upon her desk. A letter was inside, surprisingly from Draco Malfoy.

_Dear Granger-Weasley,_

_I found this box in the Hogwarts dungeons last week, and I don't know if its contents would be helpful for any future investigations. I thought you would be interested to take a look at it after the Auror issues are finished. Actually, I trusted you better with this than Potter. Don't let that last sentence get to your head. I still don't think highly of Mudbloods. I would like to possibly speak to you about the contents after you have filed and categorized them._

_Cordially,_

_Draco L. A. Malfoy_

"Great," she said to herself sardonically, "Another project."

She was tempted to dive right in but she had whole stack of files to send back to the Magical Law Enforcement Department. She was almost done, and if she played her cards right, she could possibly speak to Malfoy tomorrow evening. She risked a glance to find a few papers, books and a small mahogany box inside the cardboard box. A knock came at the door and she hoped it would be Karen, but then again that was not like her. Karen was one who barge open the door and saunter in with witty comment or two.

"Come in," she called and Harry came in.

"Long time no see, eh?" Harry grinned. "If you wondering where Karen is, she went out with Jack. Apparently, he said something about meeting a guy named Rudy the Jewish Cowboy." He cleared his throat, "That's not why I came here. A just got a letter from Bill, apparently Fleur is pregnant…again."

"That poor woman can't get a break, can she?" Hermione smiled, "Give them my congratulations."

"Yes well, I have better news for you. I wanted to tell you my self," Harry adjusted his glasses as pulled out a letter from his pocket. "This came from Terry, the public councilman. He's going to take over filing the Auror complaints."

Hermione went wide-eyed, "You're joking!"

"Nope," Harry shook his head, " But there is this letter for you to investigate some strange activity.."

"It's been awhile."

"…in America." Harry continued.

Hermione shrugged, "It's a good opportunity for me to get away….from Karen."

Harry gave a little chortle, "Ohh, come on, you like her."

"She does make me laugh…nervously," she admitted smiling taking Harry's letter. "Thank you Harry, I hope you don't mind that I leave right away."

"Of course not, you need to get out of this office for a while. Shouldn't you tell Karen..?"

Hermione gave him a knowing glare.

"Alright, stupid question. You do know this request was given by the American Ministry of Magic," Harry informed thinking he should warn her about that detail. She would have found out anyway but he didn't want to add to the stress. "But no pressure."

"Alright, Harry, thank you. I'll let you know when I'm leaving."

Harry opened the door to head out into the hall, "Do let me know if you need help packing."

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione led him out, "I will send you a letter."

After Harry left she read the letter:

_Ms. Hermione Granger-Weasley, Chief Investigator,_

_We request your services to investigate several reports of odd activity located in the United States of America. Unfortunately, due to complications with American international affairs, we cannot directly inform you of the task at hand. Please follow these instructions for more information:_

_Travel to Washington D.C. and find the Old Post Office. Once inside find a woman named Jenny. Ask her for mail slot 26. Inside will be a letter that will give you your next instructions._

_We sincerely hope you will accept this mission._

_Cordially yours,_

_Fredrick Whitetail, Minister of Magic, United States of America._

This was going to be interesting, but wondered if the Ministry even knew about Whitetail's letter. She thought best not to tell anyone about it, except Harry or her boss, Terry Livingston. She told the secretary she was leaving early and headed home to pack.

---------------------------------------------------------

Hermione aparated into Wizarding Washington D.C. in an area called Hiawatha Square. Instead of seeing it crowded with robed witches and wizards, most were clothed in somewhat Muggle attire. Luckily right across from where she stood was an eighteen story building that was presumably a hotel. Hermione magically carried her luggage and cat carrier into the building, finding a young woman behind the check in-check out desk. "Welcome to the Awthern Hotel. How may I help you?"

"I would like a room, please. Single if it is possible."

The woman flipped through her guest book and picked up a quill. She turned the book to Hermione pointing to a blank space with the number 1352 on the side, "Please sign and tap your wand here. Your room would then only open to your wand. Thank you. There are bars on the first, ninth, and sixteenth floors. We also serve a continental breakfast in the lobbies on those floors, and if you need room service, don't hesitate to ask. Your room is on the thirteenth floor."

Hermione nodded her thanks and carried her belongings to the elevator and pressed the button 13. In no time the elevator doors swung open and she quickly sought to find her room to let Crookshanks out. By now he was becoming agitated and hissing like mad. She debated on leaving him home, but Crookshanks has been aggressive lately and would no doubt attack the movers moving Ron's belongings out. Room 1352 looked like a completely Muggle hotel room, aside from the height, and the view was excellent. She could see a high white obelisk and the United States Capitol building. She could see as far as the edges of the city, where a large river flowed calmly.

As she let Crookshanks out Hermione reminded herself of the task at hand. She was eager to get the job over and done with to possibly find time to relax. She heard the Florida Keys and the Caribbean were great relaxation points. She could fanaticise about the sun later but for now she had to find the Old Post Office.

********************************************************

A/N: ahhh, the ol' USA. Fredrick Whitetail, Terry Livingston, and Fielding Conway are mine. Karen and Jack really have nothing to do with the plot I just was fooling around. So those who don't like meaningless characters, sorry.


	3. Miss Granger Goes to Washington

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, The Darkness, and Will and Grace are not mine.

4. Miss Granger Goes to Washington …and more

She asked the desk clerk about the Old Post Office. She said it was across from the American Art Institute, and that it had a large bell tower and a statue of Benjamin Franklin would be standing in the front of the building. As much detail the clerk went through, Hermione still had a hard time finding it. Remembering the bell tower detail, she kept her eyes up for a bell tower, still no luck. Finally a man, probably hired to direct tourists, noticed her confusion and pointed her to the direction of the Old Post Office. Sure enough there was the bell tower and a statue of Benjamin Franklin. The main floor of the building had several small food courts and an ice cream shop. The second floor held several gift shops and she was desperately looking for Jenny. Hermione took the elevator to the entrance of the bell tower to find a middle-aged woman standing in a room with an antique bell on display. Her nametag read, to Hermione's relief, Jenny.

"Hello, I've been sent a letter from Mr. Whitetail about something in mail slot 26," Hermione informed, praying that this woman was the Jenny that she was told about in her letter.

"Oh, right, follow me, Miss Granger."

Jenny led her down one floor and unlocked a gate barring a hallway full of ancient mail slots. She stopped in front of one box, cautiously looked around to see if the coast was clear and whispered a password, and was answered by a dull click. She pulled open the slot taking out a cream colored envelope.

"Here you go. Good luck."

Hermione nodded her thanks and took the elevator down. She bought a cup of ice cream from the Baskin Robbins stand and sat down at a table to open the letter.

_Ms. Hermione Granger-Weasley, Chief Investigator, BMM_

_By opening this letter you have agreed to take on this task. I ask you to go to the Lincoln Memorial and meet an agent at approximately 7:00 pm tonight. The agent will be wearing a blue armband._

_Yours,_

_Fredrick Whitetail, Minister of Magic, AMM_

Hermione glanced at her watch: 5:32. She had to get moving, but the memorial was not that far from the Old Post Office. She promptly finished her ice cream and left in search of a quick route to the Lincoln Memorial.

Hermione hiked up the vast marbles stairs into the Greco-Roman structure. Many tourists were crowded around a statue of bearded man sitting in a throne, Abraham Lincoln. Scouring the place and glancing at her watch she kept an eye for anyone with a blue armband. Finally at 6:56, Hermione spotted a stern man, probably in his fifties, with a mane of silver hair, a mane not unlike Scrimgeour's. He had a wide leathery tan face, and narrow eyes. He seemed to be of Native American decent and the bright blue armband over his gray suit stood out.

"Hello, sir, I was sent to meet you-,"

The man smiled, wrinkles around his nose and eyes deepening, still making his strong face brighten, "Miss Granger it is a pleasure to meet you," he held out his hand and Hermione graciously took it. "I am Fredrick Whitetail…." Hermione did her best to keep herself from stumbling.

"Oh, Minister I had no idea.."

Whitetail held up a hand, "Think nothing of it…now to business."

He led her over behind a pillar to the back of building, "We have been getting reports of strange activity over by the Potomac River."

"Far from D.C.?" Hermione asked, "And what kind of activity?"

Whitetail put his hands in his pockets, "Attacks, people being chased by something unseen, visions of something dark, something that has a few people in the Psychiatric Ward." He ran a hand through his hair, "This needs to be figured out immediately, but I have no clues and no ideas."

"Where is this place?"

Whitetail gave a shuddering nervous sigh before whispering, "Mount Vernon."

"Mount Vernon?"

"The former home of George Washington.. look," he pulled out a letter of request and the heading read Mount Vernon Ladies' Association. "They made the initial reports, but since this house is valuable to American culture, I felt that the Ministry should put in some aid. Only the people we send come back scared out of their wits. We need your help."

Hermione glanced at the letter then at Whitetail, "Alright, when should I leave?"

Whitetail nodded towards a thick man with a bushy mustache, "He will take you there. Are you sure you are prepared?"

Hermione just grinned, eager for some excitement, "We'll find out."

--------------------------------------------------------

"Ah, you must be Mrs. Weasley," the thick man greeted. "My name is Roarke Phelps, shall we get movin'?"

Roarke pointed to the river, "That, Mrs. Weasley, is the Potomac. We have to cross that bridge and head a little south."

Phelps lead her past the monument and motioned for her to get into a dark red car. "And we're off." He muttered as he started the ignition.

****************************************************

A/N: we're moving along! And Roarke Phelps and Jenny are mine I tell you! TBC


	4. Learn From the Depths

Disclaimer: Not mine

5. Learn From the Depths

"We have to take a car, I hope you don't mind." Mr. Phelps pulled into the street, "Please call me Roarke if you wish."

"Alright, what do you know about the reports?" Hermione asked hoping to get more information. She didn't necessarily like to walk into anything blind. "It sounds like a haunting to me."

Hauntings weren't commonplace even in the wizarding world. Sure there were ghosts, but never an invisible force taking possession of an area…or a person. Although most hauntings were proven to be caused by some other magical phenomenon or by a wayward poltergeist keen on hiding every once in a while.

"Reports?" Roarke grunted, "All I know is what I went through. I was a part of a previous investigation crew and probably the only one that came out with my sanity in tact."

"What happened?"

Roarke's jaw muscle quivered as if he would prefer not to think about it. Hermione caught on and quickly added, "You don't have to- "

"No I will tell," he shifted in his seat, "Although I have a hard time believing it myself."

"Visions just popped into my head. As if someone else's memory was transferred into my mind."

Legilimency seemed to be the cause, Hermione quickly deduced. However she had cause for some doubt, as she would think that they would think the same thing. Her conclusion was immediately answered.

"At first we thought it was Legilimency." Roarke answered. "And it is a possibility, but the question is who is casting it? These images are too detailed to be fabricated. So whoever is casting it had witnessed whatever these images were."

"And what kind of images are they?"

Roarke chuckled, "I have no idea. They were going so fast that I couldn't tell, but various forms of suffering, disembowelment, torture, and other sickening images were the central focus."

Hermione didn't want to think about what they were. They had to be bad to send people to the psychiatric ward. With what she had witnessed before, she prayed to never see those images. Yet she knew she would probably run into one or two. She began to doubt herself, fearing in anticipation. Damn, why hadn't she learned Occulmency when she had the chance?

"That was what happened to me, I don't know about the others. I did hear a few people get a couple of bruises and cuts or have concussions. Whatever is there don't want us there." Roarke said shrugging.

"Wait, isn't Mount Vernon a tourist attraction? Doesn't that put innocent lives in danger?"

Roarke nodded, "Luckily, the victims have only been employees and our investigators."

"What is the Mount Vernon Ladies' Association?"

"They are the group that own Mount Vernon now. The government doesn't fund it like the other monuments or buildings. A group of women formed the group in the 1850s, initially started by a woman named something Cunningham. Mount Vernon was a wreck then." Roarke said.

"Nervous, huh?" Roarke asked glancing sideways at the apprehensive look on her face. "How's life been treating you?"

Hermione knew Roarke was trying to get her mind off of Mount Vernon, though she expected the inevitable as they passed a sign directing them to Mount Vernon, "Okay, I guess. Though I recently got out of a divorce that I'm not ashamed to admit."

"Why should you be? I guess divorces over here are more common than in England. I've been divorced twice."

"Twice?" Hermione sounded surprised. So far Roarke seemed to be a nice, understanding fellow. But then again so had Ron in their first few years of marriage, then he slowly began to become controlling and morose. She at first thought it was stress from Quidditch, but then began wonder if it was something else. They began to fight constantly and a few times Ron struck her, but not anything damaging or severe. She did slap him a few times as well. However, words could not express how she felt when she found out that Ron was having an affair. In some aspects she saw it coming, but was stunned all the same. A teammate of Ron's, a feeble man but a great Seeker anyway, let it slip loose about Ron's "girlfriend" and Hermione rushed home to find him in bed with another woman. Ron had the audacity to blame the whole situation on her, complaining that she was just living off of his hard earned money and wouldn't give him any form of appreciation. Unfortunately the Wizengamot sympathized with Ron and she lost everything that she ever cared for. _Maybe it was my fault._

"They both didn't like my job. I was usually never home and as much as I tried I couldn't get a vacation," Roarke answered casually.

"But how is the Ministry over there?" Roarke continued.

"Horribly corrupt," she answered._ He probably thinks I have depression_.

Roarke smirked. "Tto tell the truth our Muggle government has never worked well with wizards except when the Muggle government first began. Our Ministry technically began with the Iroquois Indian nations."

"I do remember reading about the witch trials in Salem," Hermione said.

"That was our most famous Wizard-Muggle interaction fiasco."

They pulled into a long road that had a round about near a gate. The whole road was filled with trees and beautiful foliage. "Its beautiful!" she exclaimed at her surroundings. "This is just the entrance, the actual mansion is actually a good walk from the visitor center." Roake said matter-of-factly.

The gate was shut tight and a guard was leaning against the brick next to it. The guard looked and approached them with a look of confusion. "We closed about a half-hour ago."

Roarke stepped up from behind Hermione, "Actually we have business with Elizabeth McDorren." The guard seemed unsatisfied and folded his arms defiantly. "What kind of business?"

"Let them in Nathan," came a voice from behind him. A female guard stood in front of the gate.

Nathan mumbled something and let them pass.

"Don't worry about him, he takes his job too seriously," the female guard smiled as she unlocked the gate, "Go on into the visitor's center, the curator should be waiting for you."

The gate creaked open and Roarke and Hermione started up a short path into a building. They entered the large visitor's center finding an older woman that reminded Hermione strongly of McGonagall was standing in front bronze statues of a tall 18th century man and woman with two young children.

"Thank you for coming again Roarke. And I'm sorry to call upon you Mrs. Weasley on such short notice." She said in a stern tone, "I'm the curator of Mount Vernon, Elizabeth McDorren. I assume you know why we asked you here."

Hermione nodded.

"Good, as you know this is a valuable part of our history, so try to not create too much damage. Although a few good Reparos should fix everything up nicely if something should happen," the edges of her mouth quirked up. "You might want to brush up Washington's life in the Education Center if you want. But a guard on his nightly rounds was knocked unconscious in there. You could start your investigation there. Just take the path past the gardens and you'll find the building."

Roarke nodded, "I'm sorry but you'll have to do this alone. But I'll be here if something should happen."

Great. Hermione started past the lush gardens and into another building. The building was dark save for a few minor spotlights. A large hall split into two halls, one open and the other blocked by glass doors with a bust of a man's head on the inside. She took the open hall first. She slowly walked along the winding hall, reading the plates of information. She stopped in front of a very realistic statue of a relatively handsome 18th century man with auburn hair tied in a queue set. The statue was set in forested environment. Oddly though, Hermione felt as if its eyes were following her. Her eyes drifted down to read the plate.

_George Washington at the age of seventeen started a career in landscaping as a surveyor in the backwoods of Virginia for the Fairfax estate……._

She made her way into the next section but a portrait caught her eye. A portrait of woman dressed elegantly in a purple gown. Hermione was taken aback at the woman's intense beauty. Her brown hair was piled lusciously onto her head. She had a warm, gentile smile that spoke of her kindness and generosity. Her form positively glowed, of pureness and light. Martha Washington.

Hermione didn't know what to think. Her mind froze, almost enchanted but thankfully she resisted the urge to caress the painting. A sound of a distant unrecognizable whisper broke Hermione's trance. She spun around finding nothing but darkness down the hall. Curious, she ventured further into the winding hall, taking quick glances and reading the plates along the exhibits. She stopped at another statue, presumably the same man. But in this case, he looked older but still held auburn hair. The statue was dressed in a blue 18th century war uniform and sitting proudly astride a magnificent white stallion. Again she felt and eerie shudder as she gazed up at the statue.

Feeling uncomfortable, she backtracked past the portrait and the first statue and into the main hall. Hermione turned to the glass doors leading to the other hall.

"Alohamora!"

The doors swung open and she was a little relieved that there were a few dim spotlights in the hall. She walked along the glass cases of ornaments and trinkets, but as she made her way through the exhibit rooms she felt she could hear deep ragged breath, almost growling that seemed to resound throughout the hall. A prickly sense in the back of her neck, made her worry. She should be used to this by now.

She stopped by a glass case containing a sword and scabbard. It looked worn but out of use not by age. Gazing at the antique sword, she noticed her reflection and something else.

She spun around, pulling her wand out, but a black smoky mass rushed through her, coldness running through her veins. She was drained and her vision began to blur. The smoky figure whirled back around, ready to go after her again and she started running down the hall. Unfortunately, she made the mistake of looking back, watching the form race after her, but her vision became blurred and she lost her strength. A hand thrust out of the darkness and grasped her and the mass dissipated, before she passed out.

---------------------------------------------------

A/N: oooh cliffy…sort of. Elizabeth is mine although I wanted to put the actual curator in here. I couldn't remember the name. Soo…hang tight. Next chapter: The investigation continues (Hermione is not one to give up) some more information, and the identity of the person who saved her will be revealed. (Most of you probably know who it is.) The painting of Martha Washington that Hermione looks at can be veiwed at Michael Deas' website. The actual painting is actually at Mount Vernon.


	5. Reawaken

Disclaimer: Not mine. Simple as that.

6. Reawaken

"Is there a problem?" Jack asked pausing from his task of painting Karen's toenails.

"Well, no, I'm looking for Hermione Granger-Weasley."

"And who might you be?"

"I'm ah, Ron Weasley."

Karen looked up from her magazine with a curious look on her face. "Aren't you the scumbag who cheated on her and then somehow put the blame on her?"

Ron bit back a retort. "She's not here." Karen answered. Harry then entered, "There you are Jack, look I need….." he paused staring at Jack and Karen. "Are…are you painting her toenails?"

"Why, yes I am. Would you like a try?"

"No I'll pass." Harry's gaze fell on Ron. "Well, what is it you want?" he said indignantly folding his arms.

"I have to leave for four days for Quidditch games in Berlin and Cassidy's aunt died and has to go to her funeral so I was just letting her know just in case something happens to the kids at Hogwarts."

"Hermione left..to America." Harry answered flatly.

"Oh," Ron tried not to sound disappointed, but failed miserably.

"I'll take care of anything that may happen," Harry sighed.

"Thanks," Ron said followed by an awkward silence. "Well I should be going."

After Ron left, a silence ensued, and then Jack said, breaking the silence, "This week Joey teaches Blossom a lesson about tough love."

Harry smirked rolling his eyes.

*****

_There is a little light in the dark_

_Only finding the light will give control_

_For light brings us hope_

Hermione suddenly awoke finding herself on a bed. Disoriented, she looked around at her surroundings. They weren't anything familiar but looked like 17th and 18th century designs seemed to be the theme.

"Ah, you're awake," came a familiar voice. McDorren was sitting on wooden chair next to her bed. "You were out for twelve hours. Phelps and I were wondering if we should've taken you to the hospital."

"Well I do feel rested," Hermione sat up and Roarke came in. "Oh, thank god, you're awake."

"What happened?" Hermione asked trying to regain her thoughts.

"We were going to ask the same thing," Roarke crossed his arms his heavy brow furrowing. "You don't remember anything?"

"We were talking in my office when the caretaker came in carrying you in his arms. You were out cold. We told him to put you here until you wake, then he left. We never had a chance to ask how he found you." Elizabeth said.

"The caretaker?"

"Here's a thought, why doesn't the caretaker assist Miss Granger in her investigation?" Roarke suggested. "She can't investigate this thing alone, and the caretaker seems to be comfortable around here at night."

"That is if he will do it," the curator muttered. "He's already working 24/7, almost literally."

"Where is he?"

Elizabeth shrugged, "He's here and there most of the time, but after we close today we'll find him."

"Another question: Where am I?" Hermione asked gesturing to her surroundings.

"The Mount Vernon Inn, a bed and breakfast right on Mount Vernon grounds." Elizabeth smiled. "Now tell me what you remember."

The curator took Hermione and Roarke down to the food court to have a few drinks and Hermione told them all she could remember. Which wasn't much, her memory got fuzzy when she got to the part of gazing at the sword. Deciding it would be good idea for some exercise, the curator took Hermione to the area where she investigated last night. Things were more detailed and more revealing in the light, with the exception of the crowd of people. She took her to the other hall and Hermione's gaze fell upon the sword. Elizabeth must have noticed, "That sword was used in the American Revolution. The steel was thicker and sharper than a regular cavalry sword, which was mostly used for decoration. So that leaves us with speculation that Washington might've actually drew blood with the sword."

Afterwards they entered the food court again to have a late lunch waiting patiently for the last of the visitors to leave the gates. "Well let's go find him shall we?" McDorren got up and let her down a dirt path past a small, gated field containing a few bulls grazing. As they walked past a large orchard, Elizabeth pointed over to the other side of the road.

"And that is the mansion."

She was referring to a large magnificent red and white house that rested just past a large expanse of grass. Hermione was at least a little stunned. Seven years of going to Hogwarts, big buildings didn't surprise her much, but this wasn't a school. It was a house. It was not as big as the Malfoy mansion, but then again it seemed that the property owned a lot more land.

A black man wearing brown trousers, stockings and leather shoes along with a wide-brimmed hat passed them.

"Oh, Marcus!" Elizabeth waved. "Do you know where that caretaker is?"

Marcus smirked revealing bright white teeth. "I last saw him by the tomb."

"The old one or the new one?"

Marcus rolled his eyes, "The ones with bones in them. He is digging up dirt to put new soil in."

"Thank you."

They walked further along the dirt road and it seemed the land would go on forever. The entered a shady area with small brick structure with two small obelisks in front of it.

"This is the Washington family tomb." Elizabeth informed but stopped when she heard the sound of digging on the other side.

They rounded the brick structure finding a man digging up dirt with a spade. Elizabeth cleared her throat and the man paused his back still to them. Slowly he straightened up and turned to face them. Hermione had to cover her mouth to stifle a scream.

_Oh my god. It can't be….._

Elizabeth said proudly, "Hermione, I would like you to meet our caretaker….Severus Snape."

A/N: du du du duunnn…I know short chapter. But some of you probably already knew what was happening but its not over yet. BTW Karen and Jack aren't mine, they belong to the great creators of Will and Grace. I don't know if the show airs in Britain or not.


	6. Resurrection of a Master

Disclaimer: Nothing that seems familiar is mine. Just for some fun.

7. The Resurrection of a Master

_It's Snape. No. No. It is not possible!_

"Mrs. McDorren, I believe she needs some assistance. She looks faint."

She was faint. It seemed that only sheer shock was keeping her on her feet. In disbelief she inched towards him still staring at him, mouth and eyes wide open. His appearance was a shock as well. He still held his black long mane, longer than when she last saw him. A formerly white blindfold (now dirty and sweat stained) was tied over his eyes. His chin held some whiskers and a case of 5 o'clock shadowed that he had not taken care of. His thin lips held a half smoked cigarette. He still looked dead.

"What? How?"

"You two know each other?" Elizabeth's eyebrow rose. Neither Hermione nor Snape answered her. "Maybe I should leave you two alone." Hermione didn't notice her leave.

Hermione's knees gave way and she fell to her knees. Snape sighed and plucked the cigarette from his mouth, slinging the shovel over his shoulder. Shuddering, Hermione choked.

"You're alive?" she whispered softly. He didn't answer her.

"Please, please tell me," Hermione whispered pleading, "Tell me I'm not..going mad."

Snape's jaw clenched in disapproval, "No you're not."

The breeze against the trees drowned Hermione's labored breath. He still stood still, the side of his mouth puffing out a bit of smoke. His expression was unreadable, mainly because his eyes could not be seen. A flush of anger rose through her at his indifference.

"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD, YOU BASTARD!" she screamed, still on her knees. She grasped his suspenders and pulled him down, intent on yelling something else, but it only came out as a sob as she broke down. All the pressure of recent events came crashing down on her, and finding a man supposedly long dead only pushed her emotions further. Losing all dignity she had left she cried into his sweat stained shirt. Surprisingly, he did not push her away instead he let her cry. Amidst her sobbing Hermione was worried about how Snape took her outburst. Hermione's wails were reduced to sniffles and she felt able to speak without breaking down.

She lifted her chin to stare into her former Headmaster's face, eyes searching his expression. She was astonished to she his chin tilted downward, almost in shame. Still holding on to his shirt she stood, and he straightened with her. She hadn't realized that he knelt slightly with her as she cried before. She stood back to gauge his appearance. His white shirt had three buttons at the top that were undone. The shirt however, was not really white anymore like his blindfold. Its yellow-gray tinge was no doubt the result of sweat, dirt, and grime as he worked. His black trousers fit nicely on his legs and suspenders were slung around his shoulders and clasped onto the waistband. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up revealing strong forearms, glistening with perspiration. He extinguished his cigarette on the handle of his shovel and thrust the butt into his pocket.

"I-I don't understand," Hermione whispered softly. "You're dead. I saw you die.." Words failed her that moment.

"I'm not so sure myself," Snape admitted. "You are disappointed to see me alive."

"What? No! It's just shock. I saw you die..right before my eyes, and now you're here."

Snape scoffed, "No doubt a lot of people want me dead. Would you like to take a shot, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Why would I want to do that?"

Snape shrugged, "You're obvious distaste at seeing me seems reason enough."

Hermione pulled away feeling somewhat hurt, "You think I dislike you that much?"

"Please don't sugar-coat with the word dislike. Hate would suffice," he turned back to digging. Hermione didn't know what to say, "You think I hate you?"

Snape stopped. She took the chance scrutinize him. He seemed to be less thin than she remembered. Whether it was because he usually wore billowing robes, or because of…something else, she wasn't sure. Nor was she sure of herself when she noticed his broad shoulders and chest. Her silence caused him to go back to his work.

Grunting slightly in exertion he managed, "So what is it you want?"

"Nothing if you don't want to cooperate." Hermione snapped.

"Mrs. Weasley let me tell you something," Snape drove his spade into the ground and began to round on her. "I have always been forced to do things not of my decision, whether I cooperate or not is moot, because I am always required to do things if it is within my power. Say what you want and I will do what I can."

"Fine. I need your help in investigating strange occurrences around here," Hermione said. "I started the investigation last night and I was attacked, I think."

"You were. I dragged you out of there."

"That was you?"

Snape nodded, "I think I know the problem but we have to take things slower than you probably intended."

"But where do you think we should start?"

"Let me get this finished. Then we'll start."

Hermione nodded and waited patiently, until he finished. "Why not use you're wand?"

"Builds character," Snape muttered. Hermione snorted. "I don't believe that."

"I decided to put my wand away," he said bluntly. Hermione left it at that. He brushed off his hands sighing.

"First step, the Library of Congress," he muttered. "There are books in there that can help with the ah, problem."

"Now wait," Hermione stopped him, "You've been working nights have you not? Have you seen anything?"

"I can say I have. My senses usually tell me if something isn't right, then I high tail it out of there. It managed to attack me a few times. Here.." Snape rolled his right sleeve a little further revealing a dark purple bruise the almost the size of Hermione's fist. "Three days ago."

"Ouch," she commented lacking enthusiasm. "Now you said something about the Library of Congress." Her face brightened and Snape must have sense her delight. "Maybe you haven't changed that much. Still never miss a chance at going to a library."

"Who said I changed at all?"

Snape frowned, "Of course you realize that there are no promises. We have to get special permission to access the documents we are looking for."

"Who has access to the library that would be willing to help us?" Snape shrugged, "I know the American Ministry would possibly have someone there."

"The Ministry? Then we are set. I have contact with Minister Whitetail through Roarke Phelps."

"Contact? What do you mean? What about the British Ministry?"

"It's a long story. You haven't had any contact with British Wizarding world?"

"A little here and there. I haven't paid much attention."

Hermione glanced at the sky noting that it was starting to get dark and Snape looked eager to get back to work. "I'll owl Whitetail about the library tonight and we will go tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"Fine with me. Should we meet on the steps of the National History Museum, say at one o'clock?"

"If I can find it. I just got here yesterday, I think." Hermione said. "After last night, I'm really not sure if this is a dream or not."

"Well, go there tomorrow and find out."

"Alright. You do…whatever it is you do, and I'll owl Whitetail about the library." She waved and headed down the path back to the visitor's center.

A/N: ooh shocker. Well TBC. Next up, the library and Hermione receives a package….and, no, it's not from Severus.


	7. One City, One Library, One Secret

Disclaimer: No characters that are familiar are mine.

8. One City, One Library, One Secret

The next morning, Hermione awoke, the midmorning sun shining through the curtains. She rolled over in her voluminous sheets to stare at the clock. 10:52. She slept forever. She slipped out of bed standing to stretch. She quickly got dressed and figured she could get some brunch before she had to be at the Natural History Museum. She found a letter slipped underneath the door. She tore it open.

_Ms. Granger,_

_I understand your request and yes I have arranged for someone to allow you access to the originally inaccessible documents. Just tell them who you are and the service should let you in. If you experience any problems contact me and I will see what I can do._

_Sincerely,_

_Fredrick Whitetail_

Hermione picked out her best casual attire. She was going to the Library of Congress after all. A little voice in the back of her head questioned of her real intent on dressing so nicely. She knocked that voice back and continued to go about her routine. On her walk in Hiawatha Square she found a nice authentic Chinese restaurant. She had a quick meal and paid before heading out to the Muggle area, hoping to find the museum in time. Street maps showed her where to go, although she still managed to get lost. After going in circles she found a large stone and marble building with a giant dome atop the roof. The steps and entrance were crowded nonetheless and she knew to keep her eyes peeled. She didn't know if Snape would be wearing his blindfold or not, and if he was he probably have a hard time finding her in the crowd. She sat on the steps gazing at the large expanse of grass across the busy street. She glanced at her watch, 12:59. Hermione suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder, and looked behind to find Snape standing behind her, blindfold and all. He had dressed in moderate casual attire. A black coat and dark blue jeans made him look like the modern vampires from Muggle TV shows and movies, yet he looked, well, nice.

"How did you manage find me without sight?"

Snape smirked. "I could smell you."

"Do I need to take another shower?"

"No, I know your scent from yesterday."

"Well, Professor Snape, where do we go from here?" Hermione noticed Snape wrinkling his nose in slight disgust. "What's the matter?"

"I'd hate to point out the obvious Mrs. Weasley, but I am no longer a professor."

"I know but what else should I call you. Sir? Severus?"

Snape shook his head; "I don't know that well for you to call me by my given name. Nor do you know me enough for me to refer to you by 'Hermione'."

"So, leave it just as it is. Mr. Snape."

"Fine for now. Follow me and try not to drift."

_Do I feel stupid, a blind man is leading me._ Hermione stood by his side taking few glances at his stoic face as they turned a few corners and crossed a street. Before long Snape stopped before a large limestone building, statues and Roman embroidery chipped along the walls. Quite a few people, and what looked like a school group were standing outside shifting through security. They didn't wait long, and they both passed through the metal detector. A few of the visitors staring at Snape's blindfold, and Hermione wandered through with him close at hand she searched for someone that looked respectable enough. Hermione's eye caught a small, dark, elderly man with glasses that could quite possibly best Trelawney's.

"Sir, I'm here took look at some restricted documents-"

"Ahh," came the man's small squeaky voice, "You must be Ms. Weasley. Yes, follow me."

He led them to a large metal door and he inserted his I.D. badge in the slot next to it. The locks inside could be heard shifting and unbolting. Hermione had to suppress a gasp from escaping as the small man pushed the door open. It was like a warehouse of books and old documents. Shelves and cases filled to capacity of books and only a few desks and tables could be seen between shelves.

"Is there anything you are looking for?"

Snape spoke, "I think we could find it ourselves thank you."

The man just nodded and sat in a nearby chair. Hermione turned to Snape, "Well?"

"Well what?"

She rolled her eyes, "Where do we start?"

"I have no idea."

"What!?"

Snape didn't answer and simply moved along the shelves while Hermione continued to rant at him. "What do you mean you have no idea!?" Still no answer, instead he ran his hands along the spines. She followed him silently but quickly losing patience. Snape stopped with his hands on the thick spine of a large tome, his fingers running along a golden design etched into the leather.

"Excuse me?" Snape called over to the man. The man peered at both of them through those huge glasses. "Sir?"

"Are there any documents about the Knight's Templars in here? Like a journal, or something?" Snape asked taping the spine of the book. The golden design was a mapping compass with a right angle ruler and a G in the center.

"I think we do. The French government gave us some valuable documents for safe keeping…"

He scanned along the glass cases full of ancient deteriorated books, "This one may help. I think a Templar scholar wrote it while on an expedition in Egypt."

He pulled out some latex gloves from a dispenser on a far wall and unlocked the case, carefully lifting the ancient journal and placing it into another glass case specially utilized to turn the pages or fix them without even touching them. That posed problems.

"Er, we have a problem.." Hermione said.

"What, Mrs. Weasley? Can't you read?" Snape sneered.

"You know, if you didn't have that blindfold on, would probably see the exact finger I am holding up," Hermione was bluffing.

"Well, be glad I know French," Hermione continued glancing at the worn pages. "Do you want me to read the whole thing?"

Hermione didn't give him a chance to answer, "Stupid question, of course you want me to read the whole thing to you…"

"No, skim it. Read me anything that seems…intriguing."

"My version of intriguing and your version are probably totally different."

Snape's face didn't falter, "Actually, given your intelligence I don't think they should be too far off. Now, please, let's get reading."

Hermione, Snape, and the dark skinned old-man all sat in front of the casing, Hermione inserting her hands in some latex gloves and grasping clippers used to turn the pages. Carefully turning page after page, scanning the scripture for anything that seemed odd. She did stop a couple of times to read a passage or two, but Snape just shook his head and told to skip ahead.

"Oh, here's one," Hermione said squinting at the passage, the writing was faded just as the others and the French was ancient making it hard to decipher. "From what I can make out the writer, De Lasuex, was traveling in Egypt with another small Templar force. They found some ruins and a cave; the leader went inside with a few other soldiers and the others waited. Apparently only the leader made it out and he…changed."

"Changed? In what way?"

"De Lasuex mentions that Adrien Monstre de la Noire, the leader, came back with a cold disposition. He mentions something about a curse of some sort. Anyway, Monstre de la Noire came back with blood on his hands and lips. His eyes had turned red and developed some sort of dark markings on his face."

Hermione flipped through the pages, "Well here explains something. It says that Monstre de la Noire massacred an entire Muslim scouting force by himself with the use of, and I quote 'demon arms and wings formed from darkness'. Monstrenoir was pretty bloodthirsty."

Snape made a small humming sound, calculating what Hermione just read to him. Monstre de la Noire seemed to be infected with something when he went into the cave. Obviously. The question was: With what? "I'm guessing that Monstre de la Noire was not the Templar's real name."

Hermione shrugged and flipped back through the pages, "Monstre de la Noire does mean 'monster of the dark'. Well in this entry he refers to when the expedition started off. Then apparently he was named Adrien D'Montegue---what are you doing?"

Snape sat down near a desk holding a computer turning it on and typing something in the database. A list that Hermione could not read from her vantage point popped up. He motioned for her to see what was on the screen. "Read."

Hermione glanced at the screen hovering over Snape's shoulder. "D'Montague, Adrien Renard. Section Fre. 44436009-7722. FTemp."

Silently he rose making his way down to the "Fre" section. Just as he did before, he ran his fingers along the spines of the books, feeling the raised texture of the words. He slipped a small yellowing book from the shelf.

"Most of these books were donated to the Library by French diplomats or historians. These documents are ancient but cataloguing them doesn't involve reading or deciphering them. I wouldn't be surprised if no one has ever looked into that book. I know I've never seen it," the old man said examining the book.

"What is it?"

"It looks like a history about the Templar leaders written by a German historian about a hundred years ago," he answered.

Snape put on some gloves of his own and flipped through the pages running his fingers through the text carefully feeling through each word. He stopped at one point and "reread" the text again. "He never died," he whispered.

"So..he's still alive?" Hermione responded dubiously.

"Foolish girl," he muttered. "He wasn't killed like the other Templars. Of course, it is no secret that some Templars escaped the King of France's Templar purging. There was no report of him being burned, but at the same time Monstre de la Noire somehow disappeared. Apparently he re-changed his name back to D'Montegue only this time shortening it to Montegue."

"I can understand that but what does this have to do with our investigation?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I would have to find out more about this curse."

"Somehow I doubt this would be in readily available texts," Hermione frowned. She was somehow relieved that her wording dowsed any suspicion that the old man may have. Snape shook his head, "Some Ministry officials may know. They have contacts with the French Division and the Egyptian Ministry scholars."

"And how would we go about gaining that? We can't just barge into the Ministry demanding ancient curses."

"Don't worry about that, I'll make arrangements. I don't know how long it would take but you could just take a day or two off. You know, get a chance to see the sights."

Hermione snorted, "Yeah, and get lost again."

"I think we are done here for now sir," Snape addressed the old man who nodded and lead them both out. They both reached the outside of the Library turning to face each other. "I shall call upon you once I get anything. You know where to find me should you find something."

Hermione couldn't help but smile and felt a tug in her heart as she realized he couldn't see it. "Are you going to contact them today?" Snape nodded stiffly, "I have the day off today. This the only time I can. I will have to resume my duties tomorrow. What about you?"

"As you said, I could take a day off. Although to the British Ministry I'm on vacation." Hermione answered.

"I see," he grumbled, "I shall see you soon if not later." He turned and stalked off into the crowd. Hermione blinked and he disappeared.

-------------------------

She collapsed on her bed breathing in deeply. Hermione didn't feel like doing anything after she left the Library of Congress. Either way, she did feel restless. She needed something academic to do and she thought of the box Malfoy sent her. Pouncing off her bed she grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw into the fireplace. After the green flames licked hearth, Karen Walker's face appeared as cheerful as her botoxed face made it to be.

"Hi, honey, what can I do for you?"

"Karen could you send over that large cardboard sitting next to my filing cabinet. With the old books in it."

Her face disappeared and she came out full form from the flames carrying the box, looking uncomfortable at doing actual labor. She set it down with a grunt. She straightened, composing herself, "You know what that needs? A little scotch."

"Thank you," Hermione called as Karen disappeared through the green flames.

Staring at the box, she was hesitant. Hermione felt that there was something eerie about it, but interesting to say the least. Crookshanks carefully padded over to the box investigating its scent. Hermione bent down and sorted though the contents. Ancient tomes and volumes that looked rarely used made up most of the contents but a small mahogany box rested in the middle. Deciding with the books first she took two larger volumes and set them on the desk.

Hermione flipped somewhere near the middle of the text and the pages were marked.

_Vita Secundum Excessum_

Next to it was a full-page sketch of a figure with what looked like an inky blackness that spread throughout its body tracing the veins. The figure looked uncomfortable, as if the black ink was devouring him.

_The early ages of magic and civilization brought on unknowns, many of which bring about living curses, similar to selling the soul to the devil. One afflicted with one of these curses loses what they have of their soul. The soul belongs to the assaulting curse. Ancient curses such as these were primarily used to strengthen the wizard or witch in power and weren't cast upon others. The curse affects willing souls taking control of the body, mind, and soul._

The date of the tome was before the Middle Ages so it didn't provide much insight on what the curse was. It was a vague text but the illustrations told wonders. Illustrations of the figures were similar to the first, writhing in torment as black ink and vines wound themselves around the bodies, filled the next eleven pages.

She closed the tome and took out the next book. The engraving on it read _Origins of the Dark Arts_. Hermione visibly reeled in shock. This book was supposed to be destroyed during the Spanish Inquisition. There were only a few copies but all of them were reported to be seized and destroyed.

She carefully opened the book, skimming through the pages. It wasn't a very large book, mostly because the origins of the Dark Arts weren't widely known let alone recorded. Yet she found a marked passage with a full color painting of a figure with shadowed features, red eyes and black vine-like wings. Turning her attention to the passage she read the print closely.

_I__n the Early Years of Egypt many Arts couldn't be compared to a symbiotic curse that consumes darkness and the lives of its host. This curse has no name to this day but Greek travelers refer to these tales of this curse as Skotinotes, primarily because the creature-curse feeds on the dark supposedly. In my travels to Egypt, very few would be willing to talk to me about this curse. A few priests of this ancient religion mentioned that this curse was sealed from the time of its first defeat. A dervish priest in the region of Bubastis told me that a dark mage from a far ancient civilization created the curse for his own self-gain and to control the civilization. The mage was defeated and the curse was sealed in Egypt._

_Priests from Rome had been in contact with traveling scholars that had been studying Greece for quite sometime, monitoring their findings. At the notion that lesser mortals of a lesser civilization whose beliefs do not interpret the Savior or God to be the ruler, found it appalling that they had the ability to create such power. A dervish warrior that kept watch over the now destroyed Necropolis of Bubastis had told me that in many scriptures found by the first tracings of Egyptian civilization a prophesy that Skotinotes would rise with the next power-hungry zealot force to enter the land. But only if darkness lay within their hearts._

Hermione rubbed her eyes and shook her head but instead wrote a note, underlining "Skotinotes" twice adding a question mark. These books were nothing very transfixing but she stared back at the painting on the beginning of the chapter. The phrase popped in her head. Wings formed from darkness. She shook her head again. That couldn't be the same curse could it? It would be too much of a coincidence if it were. She closed the book with a snap setting it aside and deciding to hold off the examination of the contents until later.

Shrugging inwardly, she pulled out of her chair and made her way out of her room for a drink.

A/N: Skotinotes (sko-tea-no-tez): is a rough spelling and translation of the Greek word for darkness. Vita Secundum Excessum- roughly translates to Life After Death

Extra credit to who ever finds out what Bubastis is.


	8. Truth or Dare

Disclaimer: Nothing familiar is mine.

9. Truth or Dare

_Hermione opened her eyes finding something or someone covering her mouth. A black figure hovered over her._

_"How many times do I have to tell you people.."_

_Hermione's eyes blinked to find herself running down a hallway. Looking back, the dark figure was crawling its way towards her she resumed running but stopped to find a little girl, her skin glowing pale in the darkness._

_"Please, it's not his fault…forgive him."_

_Suddenly, behind the girl came a roar of flames that engulfed her sickly form._

Snape awoke with a start, sweating profusely. He wearily ran a hand down his face. He had rarely fallen asleep. Nothing could make this any easier.

--------------

Her alarm went off again and she wanted nothing more than to slam the snooze button.. again. Instead she sat up in her bed and stretched. After that horrible nightmare, she had trouble going back to sleep. Hermione glanced out the window finding it foggy outside. Some indoor museums could pique her interests. She stopped by the clerk's desk to check if Snape had sent her a note. A brisk walk to the American History Museum was easy enough as it was right next the Natural History Museum. Once inside, she found it oddly quiet as fewer people were inside. Sliding along the corridors full of American knick-knacks and artifacts, she delightfully enjoyed the Ruby Slippers from the Wizard of Oz.

The smoothness of her trip was put to a stop as she came to a large glass case with a full blue and buff 18th century uniform. As soon she set her glance onto the uniform, a subconscious flash came over her. No longer was the uniform clean and crisp, instead blood was spattered all over it. Hermione blinked and gulped to see the uniform back as it was.

"Is something the matter Miss?" came a voice. A man wearing a museum vest gave her a worried look.

"No. No, I-I just had a dizzy spell, that's all," Hermione assured but the man seemed skeptical. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Yeah, well that uniform you were looking is Washington's actual Revolutionary War uniform, worn in battle. But I couldn't tell you which ones."

"It was worn in battle? Do you know if there were any stains on it?"

The man's facial expression changed to a look of surprise. "I'm not sure, all I know is that it is thoroughly restored regularly in order keep discoloration out."

"Really?"

The man nodded and wandered away towards a curious school group. Nervous and out of sorts Hermione left the American History Museum. She walked hastily back to her hotel room looking to contact either Roarke or Snape about the uniform. Not about her vision but what clues it could hold. In the hotel lobby her mind jerked to reality when someone's hand gripped her arm. She let out a yelp but saw that it was Snape. He seemed to have had a bad night but his clothing was crisp and clean. Black turtle-necks do work on him. Hermione shook that thought out of her head.

"Silence Weasley," he whispered.

"Someone needs to put a bell on you."

"Mrs. Weasley I just had contact with Whitetail, or rather, McDorren did. You have to go meet him at the Ministry as soon as possible."

"Like now?"

"Yes!" he said and he dragged her to the nearest fireplace. He flung Floo powder into the fireplace. "Ministry of Magic!"

In a whirl of flames they were engulfed into the fireplace. As they walked out of another fireplace they were met by Whitetail. "Welcome Ms. Granger-Weasley, as to you." He nodded to Snape.

"Where are we?" Hermione looked at her surroundings. It was a gigantic round room that branched into different hallways. A huge totem pole was centered in the middle, the wooden animals and figures talking in booming voices to people and to themselves. People were humming about yet it was oddly quiet. The place they were in had to be at least twice as big as British Ministry.

Whitetail smiled, "You are in Shawno, Wisconsin, inside the Ministry of Magic Counsel building. But don't get too comfortable here we're leaving. Here."

He held out a smoking pipe, "Both of you touch this."

Hermione did as she was told and suddenly the room dissipated and they were outside a wooden cottage. There was a strong smell of pine and the sun was gleaming through the large canopy of trees. A large peaceful lake could be seen shimmering down a trail of wooden stairs.

"You will be staying here a few days, once all the counsel I have called arrives I will call you both back. Until then you will stay here. Dr. Waldemar Wolfmeyer was gracious enough to let us use this, so make yourselves comfortable."

"What? Both?" Snape questioned. Clearly he thought he was exempted from the committee meeting.

Whitetail's expression didn't falter. "No, I think your presence would be useful in this meeting. There are plenty of rooms in this cottage.."

"You're joking right? Did it ever occur to you that I do have a job to do?"

"I spoke with Miss McDorren and she assured me that you would be available. She has someone temporarily filling in for you."

Hermione knew that the last statement just made things worse. Whitetail walked down the blacktop street a few paces and turned back. "Your things are already in there for you. See you soon." He waved and disappeared.

They stood there in silence. Hermione's eyes kept flicking over to Snape to see if he'd move. Getting bored Hermione walked over to the door, "Are you coming in?"

Snape didn't answer but followed her lead.

"Do you know anything about this committee?" Hermione asked, staring at the high-rise wooden ceiling. An open loft created a lower ceiling over the entrance, the sitting room, kitchenette, the two bedrooms and small bathroom to the left of the entry way.

Hermione walked over to the huge glass paneling and doors opening to the porch. "I have no idea what the Minister has in store for us," Snape answered. "You can have the larger bedroom." Hermione whipped around, "Are you sure? I don't mind if I had the smaller bedroom." Snape opened both bedroom doors; the main bedroom had a large thick bed and the sheets looked comfortable. The guest bedroom had a slightly smaller bed but a thin mattress and only a few thin sheets. "It's yours," he stated. "But-," Hermione didn't finish.

Snape had made his way to the glass sliding doors and walked onto the porch. Hermione stared curiously as Snape disappeared off the porch.

Hermione had located her suitcase and her cat, and eventually got settled as she looked at a map to find where the nearest grocery store was, she groaned when she realized that town was over twenty minutes away. Relieved, she found that the fridge and cupboards were filled with foodstuffs. She sat on a comfortable recliner in front of the television. She flipped it on, and watched the news. After watching the sports caster recap the Green Bay Packer's football victory over the Dallas Cowboys, Hermione became curious as to where Snape was.

She peered through the glass door, looking down the wooded hill to the dock. The brush and wood was too much for her to see the dock clearly. Sliding the glass door and stepping on the wooden porch Hermione again peered down to see a small bench on the dock, and a dark figure sitting on it. Boldly Hermione made her way down, subconsciously listening to the various birds and wildlife surrounding her. Hermione was instantly taken by a melancholic sight when she reached the dock. Snape was sitting on the bench looking out to the lake, hunched over, head in his hands. As soon as she stepped onto the wooden boards Snape raised his head.

Feeling as though she needed to give him an explanation she said, "I hope you don't mind me joining you out here."

There was a pause filled with the sound of the water washing up onto the bank. "Isn't this relaxing? To be away from the city?" she continued, "I mean just look at this view.." Hermione cut herself off regretting what she just said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said. "I've been like this for almost seventeen years. I'm not supposed to see anything relaxing."

"What do you mean?"

Snape just reached into his pocket, took out a pack of cigarettes, stuck one into his mouth and used wandless magic to light it. Taking a puff, he resolved to answer, "It is hard to explain. But I can tell you that I am not blind. Or at least not in the strictest sense of the term."

"Then why-?"

"That is all I can explain…for now."

Silently for a few hours they both just sat on the bench looking out to the water, unbeknownst to them that they were reaching new ground in understanding each other…slowly, but surely.

Hermione and Severus walked back up to the cottage for dinner. The wine though must have been having an affect on Hermione because she became more open and outgoing towards Snape despite sparse reactions. After dinner Hermione invited Snape to watch the Game Show Network on television. Unsuprisingly on trivia shows they both knew most of the answers and found that most of the contestants were dunderheads.

At one point Snape looked over to find Hermione asleep. Without another thought he turned off the television and gently levitated her to her room. He returned to the room debating whether or not to attempt to sleep. He eventually decided not to. He made the mistake of trying to sleep last night and it only ended in terror. He began to wonder if he would ever sleep again. Of course he had to eventually, but quite frankly he'd rather not.


	9. Council Meeting

Disclaimer: again, nothing you recognize is not mine…*sigh* unfortunately

10. The Counsel Meeting

The next morning Hermione awoke in her own bed feeling both surprised and touched at the sincerity Snape had shown. She smiled, thinking that when she was a student Snape would probably berate her for falling asleep outside of her own bedroom. Hermione knew that he had changed significantly since she last saw him on his "death".

Changing her clothes she went into the main sitting room to find Snape reading the Salem Sentinel.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked pouring some coffee and helping herself to some donut holes.

"I didn't sleep," he answered bluntly.

"At all?"

Snape shook his head.

Hermione, ever the one to give advice, said, "You know, not sleeping isn't healthy."

"Call me an insomniac," Snape grunted.

"Are you?"

Snape just shrugged. "I just can't sleep."

Hermione gave him a worried look, "Do you even try.."

"Look, even when I do try to sleep I end up waking fifteen minutes later and not being able to go back to sleep."

Sipping her coffee she looked out the large window, smiling at the wonderful mid-morning sun shining through the trees. She peered at the now heavily rippled lake spotting fishermen rocking gently on a boat.

Breathing out, she murmured, "Such a beautiful place."

"Indeed," Snape responded.

Hermione later slipped into a transfigured bathing suit and went down on the lake to swim.

Snape watched her from the porch….sort of. He realized he was thinking about her. He wondered if Ronald Weasley had treated her well before the divorce. _I hope so_. He liked her company, even though she could be a little prying sometimes. He didn't mean to snap at her earlier but it was so frustrating not being able to sleep. Before, he often used a Dreamless Sleep potion but suddenly he became immune from the potion and had no choice but to stop taking it. He had overdosed twice, but to a surprise to the doctors he had not any internal damage, just many psychological problems. He spent two weeks away from work when he became sick from withdrawal, and he became worried that he would be fired when he returned. Suffering from withdrawal doesn't look good to your working reputation.

He headed to his bedroom and opened his suitcase. How it got packed and shipped here without his involvement concerned him. He hoped no one entered his apartment to pack for him. He found his suit jacket that he wore yesterday and found the vial was looking for. Snape transfigured a ballpoint pen into a syringe and filled it with the dark maroon liquid from the vial. Flexing his arm, he traced his fingers down his arm trying to find a vein. He inserted the needle into one bulging vein and pumped the liquid into his system. A sharp quick convulsion passed and he sighed feeling the stress lift off of him. He shook his head at the fact that only moments before, he had brooded about the affects of any kind of drug and now he had just willingly injected a highly addicting drug into his system.

He lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, unseeing. As time passed his senses altered, every sound thumped painfully into his ears, every movement brought to his attention. His breathing quickened, his mouth became dry, and his heartbeat quickened. The room began to spin even though his sight was covered and he clutched the sides of the bed as he breathed out cold air. Sweat began to bead on his forehead and unshaven upper lip. He cringed as the doorbell rang loudly in his ears; he shot upright on the bed only taking a second to recover enough from the sensations to answer the door.

"Is this a bad time?" Minister Whitetail took a long look at Snape's distressed form. Snape shook his head, "What is it?"

"Most of the members for the council meeting have arrived and so the meeting will take place in about an hour," Whitetail took an eagle feather out from his pocket, "This portkey will take you to the meeting location, and back." Whitetail handed Snape the feather before adding, "Are you sure you are alright?"

"I am fine Minister," came Snape's short reply. The Minister shrugged then disappeared. Snape growled and shut the door. He made his way down to the dock hearing the splashing of Hermione swimming.

Hermione turned to find Snape standing, "looking" down at her from the dock. "Oh, sir, I didn't see you there. Is there a problem?"

"The Minister just arrived. The counsel is ready. We need to go the location as soon as possible."

"Oh, alright, I'll be ready in no time."

He marched back up to the house, head throbbing. He suddenly stopped in his tracks. _A King is on the move, Severus_. He had to catch his breath, but assumed that the drugs were resuming their effect on him. He steadied himself on a chair on the porch, lighting a cigarette.

Hermione walked past Snape smoking, his head hung down. She dried off and made herself presentable, drying her hair and tying it back. She found Snape and let him know she was ready, "Okay, Snape, I'm ready." Snape lifted himself out of the chair and took out a magnificent eagle feather. "It's a portkey." Was all he said and Hermione reached out to touch it.

She was instantly pulled into a whirlwind of feelings but after only a moment she appeared in a round room and in the center was a large bon fire, the smoke leaving through an open hole in the ceiling. It was a circular area made complete of mud brick and wood. The floor was dirt and logs surrounded the fire.

"Welcome you two," they spun around and found Whitetail sitting on one of the logs behind them, "Now we may begin."

A slew of witches and wizards, no less than ten of them, popped into the room. They were a magnificent bunch. Most were probably from different countries: Arabia, China, Russia, Africa, etc. Almost all them looked to be mystics of a sort.

"Thank you for coming, all of you." Minister Whitetail clapped his hands together, "Shall we begin?" He took a seat on a log by the fire, the others hesitated but he motioned for them to sit on the logs. They were all eerily quiet as they sat down.

"Minister what is going on," said a large bald man with beard and a thick Slavic accent.

"I have just called you for some advice. A national landmark is at stake. It involves the mansion of George Washington."

"So?" came the impatient tone of a French woman with golden hair and round glasses. "Did he not participate in the slaughtering of your people, so why would you want to be involved in anything dealing with him. Better yet why call all of us, many of us have no idea who he is, or care."

"Please, Christine, let him explain," the Japanese witch said in the soft tone.

Minister Whitetail rubbed his forehead, "The reason why I called an international counsil is because this may involve something more than it looks."

"What makes you say that?"

"Ever heard of the Illuminati or the Free Masons? I'm sure you have all heard of the Knight's Templar."

"Well what is the issue then?" the Russian shrugged.

"Supernatural forces," Whitetail said bluntly. The French maiden rolled her eyes. The German mystic shook his head. The others murmured in disbelief.

"Listen, people who go into that house see things and many go mad. Some are attacked. Why is my question and how. Someone or something is there and I want to know what it is."

"What does this have to do with the Knight's Templar?"

"In doing some research, Ms. Granger-Weasley has found some documents of Templar leader Adrien Monstre de la Noir D'Montegue who lead a Crusade expedition into Egypt. He found something akin to a dangerous curse."

"Curse?"

"Ms. Weasley," Whitetail gestured towards Hermione, "Care to explain?"

Hermione swallowed as all of the faces turned to face her, "Well, I wasn't sure it was a curse, at least from the information I found. The information just said when he entered Egypt, something….changed in him."

"What does this have to do with Washington?"

The Minister spoke, "I took upon some research myself, looking at the history of the land the property was built on and the history of the family. I found this," Whitetail placed a few yellowing and degraded documents into the hands of the Russian. He looked over them. Flipping through the pages.

"It's the house records of an Englishman named Anderlane Montegue," the Minister explained, "Sound familiar?"

"Could it be the same person?" the Chinese wizard wondered aloud as he stroked his beard.

"Apparently this Montegue is Washington's ancestor," the Russian man murmured keeping his eyes on the pages before handing them to the French woman. The circle erupted into a roar of murmurs as the council members began to talk amongst themselves. The Minister's expression grew impatient and frustrated.

"Enough!"

A low voice said sharply as one of the members stood up, slamming his staff into the ground to call attention to the others. He was tall and wore an intricately jeweled and beaded red burnoose. A hood shadowed his features, even with the fire blazing. The council went quiet.

"To put things simply," said the man, "We can assume that whatever curse this is it could have passed on to Washington."

He paused sitting back down. "As such, in his death, this curse, assuming it is an ancient one, probably held onto his soul or destroyed it."

"Well what do we have to do?"

"Find when the curse took complete control of his soul. Better yet explore times of Washington's that caused a deal of emotional distress."

He paused at their stares, "Personal objects or places can gain access to those times. The times his soul was torn apart."

Hermione swallowed, whispering to herself, "Horcruxes."

"Ancient curses are often associated with the emotional powers and adrenaline," the gypsy from India said tersely.

"How do we go about finding these 'soul pieces'," Minister Whitetail asked. The man turned his head towards Snape. "There are ways." Snape looked like he knew that he was talking about him.

"Well, Al'Hakin Jenatep, we will discus that possibility," the American Minister said in a low voice eyeing the mysterious man. "Please, if the rest of you find anything that may be of use, let me know. This council is at an end until further notice thank you. Mr. Jenatep, Mr. Snape, Ms. Weasley please stay for a while."

The council members nodded and uttered their goodbyes before disappearing. When they all left the Minister turned the three remaining.

"Ms. Weasley, Mr. Snape let me introduce you to Al'Hakin Jenatep a dervish of the House of Netjer in Egypt," the Minister said to the two of them."Alright, Jenatep, please explain your proposition."

"What do you want?" Snape asked darkly in an annoyed tone.

"The only way to see Washington's curse ridden spirit is for you to see it," the dervish said sternly. "You will need to remove the blindfold. Turn away the last seventeen years of self-imposed blindness."

Snape was not happy with the idea, "No way in hell."

"Now you're making it too obvious…"

"Okay, okay, settle down," Whitetail tried to interject.

"You don't understand," Snape pointed to his blindfold, "I cannot open my eyes to see this world. My outer sight does just fine and keeps the darkness at bay."

"Exactly! The way you see things can pinpoint the darkness in Washington's spirit."

"Minister," Snape turned to Whitetail, "You cannot force me to do this."

Whitetail gave a look of concern and pity, "It would be helpful, but no I cannot force you."

Snape shook his head, "At least can we see if there is another way?"

"I have no qualms about that," Minister said turning to Jenatep for an opinion.

"You have to face your fate eventually," Jenatep muttered.

"Well, I'll keep you updated, if you keep in contact," the Minister said to Hermione. Hermione nodded and shook Whitetail and Jenatep's hands. Before getting ready to portkey out Snape turned to Jenatep, "I have lived in the darkness all my life, frankly I am tired of it." He and Hermione disappeared out of the hut. After a few moments of silence between Whitetail and Jenatep, Whitetail turned to him abruptly, "What the hell do you think you are going at?"

"He is going to have to learn to live with the darkness that possesses him," Jenatep began rubbing his pendent around his neck. "As for Washington, it could take another man like him, for him to accept his fate. Whatever it would be."

Draco Malfoy tried to make his way from Granger-Weasley's office. He had questions for her but the last time he tried to contact her, she was still away and he had, interestingly, had quite a time with her assistant. Malfoy's heart went in his throat as he looked up. Harry Potter came into view from across the hall, talking with his equally interesting assistant Jack. He would have half the mind to turn around and ignore him. But Potter looked up and frowned before walking away.

"Hello Draco," came Jack's voice, "still no luck getting Hermione?"

"Well, no. I went to her office and tried to see if Karen knew where she was."

"Did you get answers?"

Draco sighed and explained, "I found Karen, sipping her lunch. I asked if there were news of Granger. She said she hadn't gained any information and gave me a mint. And now I can't feel my tongue."

"Hopefully that is a lesson not to ingest anything from Karen's purse," Potter came up behind Jack. "What do you need Hermione for, Malfoy."

"I gave her some books and papers I found in Snape's old office so she could document them and keep them safe, and I just needed an update."

Potter's eyes narrowed, "She's preoccupied."

"I know. Please if you hear from her tell her that I asked for an update on the books." Draco asked in what could have been interpreted as a sincere voice, before he walked past the two.

A/N: Makes you wonder doesn't it. I have a lot going on and I wish I could update faster. Next we will get to see the in depth life of Severus.


	10. Fishing for the Moon

Disclaimer: Nope..nothing's changed. I still don't own Harry Potter or the Darkness or Will and Grace. But hell knows I've tried.

---------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 11: Fishing For the Moon

They both returned to the cottage and almost immediately Snape disappeared. Hermione had the right mind not to bother him, he seemed upset. Hemione tried not to let her curiosity overwhelm her but gods she hated not understanding things. She had no idea what the Egyptian dervish meant when he talked to Snape about, what she assumed, removing his blindfold. Severus did say that he wasn't actually blind, so she couldn't understand what was wrong with his eyes. _Wait, when did I start thinking of him as Severus?_ Hermione thought as she put her swimming suit back on walked down to the dock with a nice beach-reading novel.

She was slightly surprised to find Snape standing at the edge of the dock with a fishing pole in his hands, the line in the water. His fingers were gently gripping the line near the base of the reel.

"Hey, are you okay?" Hermione asked. Snape shrugged, "A little frustrated that's all."

"I'm sure they were just trying to help."

Snape smiled. A genuine smile, the creases around his mouth cheeks and nose deepened into the most charming smile Hermione had ever seen.

"I wasn't talking about that," he said, "I'm not catching anything." He sat down on the bench. "But yes I am a little upset."

He shook his head, "I have lived like this, blind, if you will, for about seventeen years, and was content with it. And now.." Snape let out a _pfft_ sound, "they expect me let go of my contentment because some dead President can't let go and accept his fate."

"I don't get it, what is wrong with your eyes?" Hermione asked.

Snape turned to face her, his cheek muscles quivering, he answered turning back to face the lake, "My sight is cursed as is the rest of me."

He stopped and Hermione didn't push the issue, but only did she realize that Snape gave the pole a sharp tug then started to reel the line in vigorously. Hermione spotted the line moving hard from side to side as Snape jerked the pole back. The fish came up and it was a thick and chubby lake fish. Snape pulled the line towards him out of the water.

"Here's the trick in getting the line out," Snape said, "Make sure to grip it tight and fast so it doesn't wiggle and prick you with it's fins." He in turn gripped the fish tightly while weaving the hook out of the fish's mouth, "There we go," he gently released it back into the water. "I'll make us dinner."

"Would you? Oh, that's so sweet, do you want me to help?"

He gave her another smile that made her feel light-headed. "Could you make the salad? I'm smoking a turkey tonight and it takes time and concentration to smoke one with wandless magic."

Hermione had made the salad and laid out the other food while Snape was out still smoking a turkey he had found in the food pantry. He had felt better, the awkward company of Ms. Weasley was comforting. Formerly he would have dealt with the stress alone and in solitude, but the companionship of his former student was like a breath of fresh air. But it could be the drugs talking, loosening him up.

Hermione set the table as Snape brought in the wonderful smelling smoked turkey. "Gods that smells delicious," she breathed. He carved the turkey and Hermione was subtly reminded of his dexterity during Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts class as the defined muscles of his forearms rippled with the sawing motion in cutting the turkey. She didn't remember him this muscular. He was still relatively thin, but not as sickly thin as she remembered. His skin was darker, and…was that..an earring?. As his head listed to the right, his left ear peaked out from his black hair. A gold hoop earring was on the end of his left lobe and a diamond stud was up further on his ear. When did he get those?

Hermione didn't mention the earrings during dinner, and she was glad she didn't. They talked about trivial things like the British Minister of Magic and Snape's job.

"Where do you live? Do you live in the city or Alexandria?" Hermione asked. "Or do you live at Mount Vernon?"

Snape took a sip of his drink (Hermione saw him mixing one but didn't know what it was), "If I do get the night off, I own an apartment in the downtown area near Hiawatha Square."

"What do you mean if? From what I hear, you're a typical workaholic. McDorren practically forced you not to work."

"Yes, but now I'm working to combat an outraged spirit. You're right, that brings a lot off my work load," Snape retorted back with his old sarcasm. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the wave of nostalgia that poured over her at that moment. But this was different. She wasn't meek or embarrassed as she would have been seventeen years ago. Now she was an adult who did her part in destroying Voldemort. Snape's sarcasm wouldn't affect her this time, even if it were meant to be playful banter.

Snape returned to the subject, "I do stay at Mount Vernon when the work load calls for me to be on the site for several days."

"I'm sure that's comfortable."

Snape snorted, "Hardly. But it beats going back and forth twelve times in the course of two days."

He scratched his stubble, "What about you? What is new with your work? Aside from this mission."

Her eyebrows rose. Did Severus Snape just ask her how her life was going? Indirectly of course, but it was odd to even think to have any civilized conversation with this man. "Actually this mission is probably the most exciting thing to happen in work in a long time. The Ministry has me do library work in between investigations."

Snape snorted and Hermione knew why. As a child she'd always been known to love libraries and research, so one would assume she would be more grateful to the menial tasks the Ministry binds her to when she's not spirit hunting.

"To me, this is the perfect investigation. Foreign lands, mystery, history, and plenty of researched rolled into one. But I do have one question."

"What would that be?" Snape's voice was low, but he picked up her empty plate as well as his own and put them in the sink to be cleaned later.

"Have there been any other investigations on this problem?"

"A few cleansing rituals that did not work. That is why we are stuck, we are not sure if what we are dealing with is in the spirit realm or is something else entirely. Assuming that the Kemetic dervish is correct, it is something else."

Hermione performed a Cleansing Charm on the dishes, "Hopefully we will find more when we get back tomorrow. After I check up on my boss and my assistant--."

She stopped in mid sentence, she remembered Malfoy and the books she asked her to examine. They were Snape's and the few she had read sounded something that could be connected somehow. It would seem to fit. The _Vita Secundum Excessum_ did mention ancient curses that tore away at the soul. Jenatep did say that it was likely that Washington's cursed soul was destroyed because of a curse like those. And the _Origins of the Dark Arts_ mentioned a curse in Egypt….could it be?

"Where did Monstrenoir travel to in Egypt again?" Hermione asked. Snape's expression did not change even though the subject did.

"I'm not sure, why?"

Might as well tell him. "Not long before I came here, Draco Malfoy gave me a pile of books to examine. Books from your old quarters. I'm not even sure I know how to ask where you got a copy of _Origins of the Dark Arts._"

His jaw muscles quivered and his head turned away.

"In it, the author or authors mention an ancient curse found in Egypt. They called it Skotinotes.."

"The Darkness.." he said.

"The curse worked like what Jenatep said. It virtually consumes the soul and tears it apart, in turn it grants dark power. It is a living curse and creates a symbiotic relationship with the victim."

"And you think that Monstenoir may have received the curse on his Crusade in Egypt?"

"Well it would make sense. The journal did say after came out of the cave he changed into some kind of monster."

"It could be any other ancient curse.."

He looked at her determined face, he knew he lost, "Your adamant, aren't you?"

"Oh, yes. I have a good feeling about this."

"Well, I guess tomorrow once we get back, you should do more research. I have to go back and make sure the estate isn't falling apart."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I'm sure it is fine."

"I know I wasn't going to ask you this but, how did get a copy of that book. I thought they were all destroyed."

"Not the one belonging to the Prince clan," Snape answered settling into an easy chair.

"Your family was into the Dark Arts?" It was a stupid question Hermione knew, but she didn't to make herself look like a complete ass if she was wrong.

"Not especially to my knowledge no. They more or less dwelled in those barrier Arts. Nature magic. The foundations of magic itself. At least that's what I gathered."

Hermione thought that it would suit him well, the barrier arts. It would match his personality, neither good nor bad. But no one was pure good or pure evil. Representation of good and evil were just conjuring of conservative society in the Middle Ages. The Christian theologians made everything in society seem black and white, contrary to the earlier religious practices of Druids and others. If the Princes were that old and that prominent at one point, it would be no surprise that they would hold a book like that for centuries.

Hermione went to bed and Snape followed shortly after but did not go to sleep. Even with Weasley's cat purring at his side he willed himself to stay awake. He knew what would happen if he entered dreamland.

----------------------------

A/N: Shorty chapter I know. But it is a transition piece. Next: Hermione and Snape have a nice dinner….together (again). And we find the interesting origins of the Prince clan. The title of this chapter is based off a play performed at the American Folklore Theaters located in Door County, Wisconsin. If you ever go there check the plays out they are all pretty funny. Fishing for the Moon was written by the late Fred Alley.


	11. DC Heights

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter….do I really have to repeat myself. Another thing, I will mention some historical figures and events that are inaccurate.

Chapter 12: D.C. Heights

Hermione and Snape arrived back at the hotel lobby the next day. Hermione turned to Snape, "So you'll go back to Mount Vernon?"

"Yes, I have to check in with McDorren. So I assume that you'll do some research."

Hermione nodded and a silence followed. Snape stared down at his feet, Hermione asked, "Do you want me to let you know what I find?"

"Sure, I'll pick you up at the lobby around nine. Is that okay?"

"Alright, I'll be here. Even I don't think I can read all day, as hard it is to believe."

Snape shook his head, "I think McDorren should know what we find. She would be interested."

Hermione holed herself up in her hotel room reading the stack of books and documents from Malfoy. They were all disturbing. Lithographs and illustrations of vampires, disembowelment, cannibalism, and other things covered some of the pages and made Hermione slightly queasy. She found a book of Egyptian tombs and she flipped through the contents until she found a two-page spread of a copy a tomb painting. It depicted a profiled figure with black waves surrounding him. Other figures on the sides were facing him with spears poised. She noticed on the black waves were black serpentine monster heads, and little black imp-like creatures. She opened the Origins book and found the introductory colored illustration. She gazed at the two illustrations side by side. Hermione read the caption by the tomb picture: Tomb near the Egyptian North Delta city of Bubastis. Her theory was slowly beginning to hold true.

She took out another book from the box, and a dusty yellowed paper slipped out. The page was written in Snape's spidery handwriting. Curious she read the first entry:

_November 2, 1993:_

_My punishment has been revoked thanks to the meddling old fool Dumbledore. The Wizengamot has required me to be the fodder for a mission. Thanks to some idiot, time has been altered and someone must go back in time and alter it back. It would take some research to find the time and place to travel. I have to work fast before the altered time takes affect._

She read on to the next couple of entries:

_November 12, 1993:_

_Those bastards! The Ministry as always had made my job harder. I am the only one assigned to this mission. One would think that the endangerment of time and history would be priority to the Ministry officials._

_November 23, 1993:_

_I have figured that in order to fix this time problem I have to find a person, not an event. My only guess is that I have to somehow guide this person towards the correct path, without drawing attention._

_November 24, 1993:_

_Dumbledore helped a little in finding the right person. The area I am reaching for is 18th century America. He has told me to narrow down my search to something big, major in the course of history during that time…_

_November 26, 1993:_

_I have concluded through time-tables and graphs that one of the people I should focus on is a George Washington. I have no idea how I'm going to get him to move towards the path already set for him. Lucky for me he was involved in two major world events._

_November 29, 1993:_

_I feel like I'm going to my execution. The Ministry has prepared the Time-Returner block for my arrival. It has not been activated in more than seventy years. I have to travel different intervals in Washington's life and try to 'push' him in the right direction. That means I have to go back and forth through time. I have been informed that because of those trips through time, my aging might be altered._

Hermione swallowed. He knew. He knew Washington's personal problems. Why didn't he mention this? Unfortunately Hermione knew that Snape was very secretive, but did he not realize that she needed as much information as possible? She couldn't read the rest, she was too lost in thought.

Hermione sorted her things and went down to the lobby a little before nine and found Snape sitting in a chair next to a large glass coffee table. As soon as she moved towards him he stood up and turned towards her.

"Before you say anything, we have to talk," Hermione pressed finger into his hard chest. Snape grasped her wrist, "Not here please."

"Well where are taking us then?"

"I tried to get us a place in a Thai restaurant down in the Asian quarter," he began rubbing his forehead, "But they were booked so we're going to have to improvise."

"You know this place better than I do so lead on. But we have to talk."

"That's fine but I need to stop at my apartment for a little bit."

"Your apartment?"

Snape nodded and jerked her lightly to the door. She walked beside him on the sidewalk.

"Now what do you want to talk to me about?"

Hermione thrust the page into his chest. "I found this. Your time-travel journal."

"So you are mad aren't you?"

"You bet your testicles, I'm mad," she ground out in a low voice, "Why didn't you tell me about this. It would have made my investigation a lot easier."

"It was a long time ago," Snape mumbled.

Hermione's frustration grew, "It shouldn't matter. This is insane, you know the problem don't you."

"I don't. And…the reason I didn't tell you because..it's something I don't wish to recall."

"What are you talking about?"

"I did some…things to Washington and to his family that I am not particularly proud of. Yet it was the only way to get results," they crossed an intersection just in time before the light turned red. "He was very stubborn. So the only way to convince him was with mind games."

"And yet you have no idea why there are attacks now?"

"Nothing I can pinpoint, no. The only ones who knew of my time travel outside of the Ministry were Dumbledore and now McDorren. That was one of the reasons why she hired me."

Hermione tried to gauge what would happen if she went back so far in time, meeting with Washington or other historical figures. It would have been very stressful, trying to survive while not getting into the history books.

Snape pointed to a small bar and grill across the block. "Lets get a drink." Hermione silently agreed, she needed a drink or two. They entered and the host sat them down. Hermione noticed that few ever seemed to notice Snape's blindfold. "Is that a Do-Not-Notice charm on that?"

"It's a variation so I do not draw attention to myself from Muggles, although D.C. can get some weird characters 'round." Snape smirked at the thought of running into street entertainers every now and then. A sharp buzzing noise came from his pocket. He reached in and pulled out a beeper. Snape read the message, frowned and slipped back into his pocket.

Snape cleared his throat and asked, "What has been going on in the past seventeen years for the Golden Trio."

Hermione didn't stop to think about the question and answered truthfully, "Well, you know what I've been doing and Harry is one of the top Aurors in the Ministry at the moment."

Snaped scoffed, "That doesn't surprise me. Go on."

"Ron's..," Hermione stopped short. She had to think about how to tell the tale, the long grueling tale about how the man she fell in love with betrayed her. "I had a happy life. Everything I could want: kids, a husband, a position with the ministry. Then I don't know what happened. I work as hard as I can to put food on the table while supporting my husband and then I find he prefers a different kind of support, with another woman no less."

"That's what I'd expect from a Weasley Quidditch player," Snape muttered into his glass.

Hermione shook her head, "That's not the end of it. Somehow he blamed all our marital troubles on me and then took my kids away. My children…" She started to cry, and pang of guilt washed over Snape.

"My children have suffered because of his ignorance and they have to call another woman 'mum'," Hermione took one long drink and gave a rueful sigh wiping her tears. "Maybe it was my fault…"

"Don't say that," Snape cut her off, he put his hand on hers, "If it is any consolation, you deserve better than him."

Hermione sniffed and smiled, "Thank you. That's very sweet of you." She paused, "How did you know he was a Quidditch player?"

"I haven't completely shut myself from the British Wizarding World and believe it or not, but when I find my former students' faces on the front cover of anything besides the Daily Prophet I tend to take interest," Snape answered with a smirk.

Hermione smiled back and set her glass down, "Could…could you call me Hermione. It makes me feel relaxed."

Snape scratched his scruffy cheek before making a decision, "I guess I could, but I'm guessing you would want to call me by my given name."

"If that would be alright. I mean we are going to work together. And Mr. Snape sounds foreign to me."

After the late drink, they walked down a few blocks to a brick building. They reached Snape's apartment and he unlocked the door. Inside was a modern style apartment, spacy and clean. There was a large glass window along the far wall overlooking the city looking directly at the Washington monument. The light was dim and he turned on the stereo, which played slow, astral, calming techno music. It was a comfortable place, yet Hermione stood still in the doorway.

"Please come in, Hermione," Severus offered quietly.

"My God, this place is wonderful. How..?"

"As you said yourself, I'm a workaholic," Snape answered as he went into the kitchen, pouring some dry kibble-like bits in a dish. "Rufus, where are you boy?"

Hermione heard a jingle and a moment later a Welsh corgi dog came scuttering across the living room into the kitchen. "You have a dog."

"Yes," Snape answered defensively, "Why."

"I just didn't see you as a dog person."

Severus placed the bowl on the kitchen floor, "I'm not."

Hermione noticed something on Severus' bicep as the sleeve of his shirt rode up when he placed the bowl down. It looked like a tattoo. Severus continued as he straightened, "Truthfully, I prefer cats. They are highly intelligent creatures as apposed to dogs."

Hermione sat down on a leather chair, "And yet you own a dog."

Severus chuckled as he settled himself in the chair across from her, "Actually Rufus is highly intelligent for a dog."

Hermione looked at Rufus, to find the corgi staring back at her. She did think that there was a sort of wisdom or keenness in Rufus' happy eyes. Hermione could imagine, if her imagination stretched a little, that Rufus and Crookshanks would be intellectual buddies, testing each others wit.

"I do love this apartment," Hermione stated again, feeling it was a safe compliment. Snape nodded in acknowledgement, "I've tried to spend more time here but work hinders me."

Hermione gave him a look that replaced a workaholic comment. Severus just grinned, but Hermione caught sight of the tattoo again and grew curious, "What's that on your arm? That tattoo."

Severus dragged the sleeve up his thick, rounded shoulder, "This?" He bared the tattoo to her. It was a symbol of a profile of a lion's head that tapered down to an arrow only the arrow was in the shape of the fleur-de-leis.

"Yes, what is that?"

"It's a long story. Something with the Prince lineage…" Severus trailed off. Hermione scoffed, "It's not like I'm in a rush or anything."

Snape stood and went to the stylized bookcase, "The Princes are not considered as old or as noble as the Blacks or Malfoys because of some factors. The Princes were born off a royal branch. The Princes technically are the House of Plantagenets."

Hermione's eyes went wide, "The Plantagenets? Meaning you are related to Richard the Lionhearted and King John…"

Snape shook his head, "Actually we are related to the better half on them. We are more or less related to Edward III's first wife. She died in child birth, giving birth the Edward's first son Edward of Woodstock, better known as the Black Prince." He picked a book from the shelves and sat back down flipping through the pages.

Hermione stopped him, "Wait, my history may be rusty, but wasn't Philippa of Hainault Edward's only wife?"

"Documented, yes, but Edward married a woman from Egypt first, seeking to pincer the European continent. She did not last long though as thirteen months after they married, she gave birth to the Black Prince, dying during the process. Edward III was devastated, though his marriage was political he loved her very much and didn't take to kind regards to Edward of Wales but had little choice but to form him into a warrior to his liking."

Snape continued, "It is believed that the prince was the bearer of a curse that was probably carried from his mother." Snape flipped the book and showed her a page revealing the same illustration from the Origins book. The caption read: _Etching of the Black Prince at Poitiers_. The figure with accursed blackness tracing over the Prince's body, had thick black tendrils sprouting from a dark aura surrounding him.

"Prince Edward fought hard against the French but there was one thing that stood in his way."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Joan of Arc," he paused. "But not in the way you'd think. The Prince line started with the child of these two forces."

"Forces?" Hermione blinked, "Wait. That can't be right. You are basically saying that the very symbols on either side produced a child together. Joan of Arc was a virgin when she died."

Snape said darkly, "Says who?"

Hermione couldn't answer. Severus answered for her, "Secrets were kept to save lives. Many secrets resurface after a long period of time. And no, the child was not created out of rape."

Hermione's head shot up, "They… courted?"

Snape shrugged, "More or less a few nights of bliss. They both returned to their duties, but when Joan found out she was pregnant she took a short leave of absence and no one questioned it. She tried to contact Edward but knew it was impossible. Instead she had a few mercenary friends keep the secret from both parties. Only when her death came did Edward know about it. Joan told the mercenaries to look after the child if the prince was unable to. One of the mercenaries got to Edward in an attempt to save Joan. The mercenary told him and the prince was stunned and did not know what to do. By then it was already too late. Joan was burned. The Black Prince knew he couldn't publicly claim Joan's child as his own so he allowed the mercenaries to take care of the child. The code surname for the child was Prince, the title its father bore. Prince Edward sent money and aid for the raising of his first heir, but the child was kept secret from both sides. The only ones who knew were the few trusted mercenaries who raised the child. And then it goes on from there…"

Hermione swallowed, "This sounds like something from the Da Vinci Code."

"The mercenaries raised the child in a joint effort. Some documents suggest that the Prince would visit the child, but was careful not reveal that he was the child's father. The mercenaries had a sign of their secret, the two symbols of both kingdoms combined into one. The fleur-de-leis and the lion. It was tattooed on some of the secret keepers; others made flags, patches, and drew it on paper. They used it to communicate to each other about the child and it evolved into the Prince family crest."

Hermione took it all in. It was an unbelievable tale. Yet he could possibly produce evidence to prove his story. He's not one to just lay claim to something and not support it, but what concerned her the most was the picture. Was Severus, the curse, and Washington all somehow related? A phone rang in the kitchen and Severus excused himself to answer, leaving Hermione sitting next to a relaxed Rufus.

"Yes Sir, Mr. Franzetti..," she heard him mutter.

The night watchman at Mount Vernon, Nathan, made his rounds on the grounds. He had a usual trail that was peaceful to walk during the day, but not at night. He kept on getting an unsettling feeling as he passed the actual mansion. Nathan walked up the circular path to the front door of the mansion holding onto his flashlight tight. The mansion was dark save for a few electric lights that were used to help renovators work. The night watchman walked past the parlor and turned the corner and shined the flashlight up the stairs, so far everything was as it should be. He was about to turn away, but her started to hear growling, whispering, and hissing coming from up the stairs.

Nathan clicked on his radio, "This is Nathan, I think we have something at the mansion." He didn't wait for a reply but unlatched the strap hitching a small handgun to his belt and started creeping up the stairs. As he reached the top he noticed the noises had stopped. But he still shone his flashlight all along the walls. "Hey!" he called, "Who's there?"

There was no answer and he as made his way around the corner into the main bedroom he found a man standing beside the bed, back facing Nathan. The disembodied hissing resumed and sweat began to bead on his brow. "What do you think you're doing here? You're not supposed to be hear."

The man had long graying hair tied into a distinguished tail. The man slowly turned and as he did, a darkness seemed to pulsate around him for a moment. His eyes were...different. They were ice blue, a glowing ice blue. The man had a sickening grin on his face.

"Tell me, are you afraid of the dark?"

Nathan couldn't answer. The man chuckled darkly, "Well, you should be."

Suddenly all lights, even Nathan's flashlight went out and all he could see were the two cold blue eyes. But more eyes flashed open around them and a roar resounded as the monster or monsters attacked. The guard outside walking towards the mansion could clearly hear a blood-curdling scream.

------------------------------------------

A/N: I do know some European history, and I know enough to know that the Black Prince could've never had an affair with Joan of Arc, but go along with the story. I also have to apologize to all of the people who revere Joan as a virgin saint. People have suggested worse things. I just thought that messing more history up would work well with the theme of the fic. Most of my inspiration for the idea of Joan of Arc's affair came from video game Bladestorm. I don't know. The Black Prince loosely resembled Snape in the game so I thought "what the heck". As my law teacher used to say: No one ever had an original thought. I like to consider myself as not an average American. I understand culture since my parents were not born in America. So if I offend anybody I sincerely apologize.

Please Reveiw


	12. Open Your Eyes

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine. I'm just doing this so I don't go crazy from boredom.

Chapter 13: Open Your Eyes

Severus continued talking quietly on the phone, while Hermione sat quietly. Suddenly Rufus' ears perked and his head jerked up. With a bark, Rufus sprang up and ran to the front door. The dog started scratching at the door and Severus told who ever he was talking, "Sal, hold on sir. I'll call you back." He hung up not tearing his face away from the direction Rufus was barking from. "Get away from the door."

He strode into the living room standing beside Hermione's seat facing the door. Then came a knock. Severus wasted no time in answering. Roarke was at the door looking disheveled and shaken.

"Roarke? What happened?" Hermione got out of her seat.

Roarke seemed surprised to see Hermione, "You both are here? Good. We have a problem."

"What?" Severus asked bluntly.

"It's Nathan, the guard he was found…Just come with me."

They arrived at Mount Vernon finding red and blue lights flashing through the night sky. The entrance gate was covered with medics and muggle police; a few news reporters were on the side. Minister Whitetail was standing next to McDorren, she was running a hand up and down the back of a shaken female guard. A few medics made their way out the gates rolling a gurney. The unrecognizable body of a guard was rolled passed them. The face was torn to shreds, nose bitten off, and part of the mouth destroyed revealing gums and teeth. The paramedics lifted the gurney onto an ambulance.

"My god." Hermione whispered in shock. She suddenly felt sick. "Is he…?"

"He's alive," Minister Whitetail answered, he nodded towards the female guard. "She received a radio transmission from the guard alerting that someone was in the mansion. When she reached the mansion, she heard a scream and raced inside and found the guard."

McDorren came to the Minister's side, "This is serious Frederick. I'm going to have to close Mount Vernon…"

"We have to act faster," Whitetail's eyes narrowed in on Snape. Severus knew he was receiving stares. It was obvious he felt unnerved and a little annoyed.

"What exactly do you think I should do? I have yet to understand how you want us to stop this."

The Minister gave out a huff of breath, "I think you know the first step."

Severus bit his tongue and walked past them and into the gate. Hermione, the Minister, and McDorren followed his frustrated strides. His posture was defensive, his shoulders were hunched and hands in his pockets. The Minister Confounded the muggle police allowing them to get inside the mansion.

"What are you doing?" the Minster raised his eyebrow seeing Severus scan the parlor. Snape turned his head to face him, but not giving an answer. The Minister grinned and shrugged, before moving back out the door with McDorren at his side.

"Miss Granger, you might want to get some rest tomorrow. You'll never know where you're going to end up tomorrow," Whitetail warned before he left. Severus just nodded, and Hermione followed the Minister out of the mansion of Mount Vernon.

After Hermione left, Severus just stood in the middle of the dark parlor. He was hesitant, still, trying to make a decision. The silence didn't help him, and in his mind he was going through the images of Nathan's body. Swallowing his pride, he brought his hands to his blindfold; cautiously he lifted it away from his eyes.

For the first time in so many years Snape was seeing with his actual eyes, but what he actually saw was completely different from a normal human's sight. As soon as he opened his eyes, his vision tunneled, narrowing and focusing on the landscape painting across the room, and low growling noise from inside his head rumbled. He saw blackness of the room but golden outlines of objects gave it depth. No more than a few seconds arose before he heard inner laughter from an entity from his mind. Flashes of a little girl flaying violently on the floor, a sickly man coughing up blood, and a vision of a man getting violently sick streamed over in his mind.

"_Nnnn. It's so good to be back_," the voice growled in his head. "_I'm sure it is_," Severus said to the voice in his head.

------------

Hermione could barely sleep that night; visions of the guard kept on streaming into her head. But when she finally got to sleep she had the weirdest dream. It started off pleasant; she found herself staring at the beautiful Potomac River from atop a hill. She looked to her right finding a couple laying on a blanked. The woman wore an 18th century gown and sun hat and she was sitting, cradling the man's head in her lap. The man would've been tall, judging by his long limbs and he wore a plain white ruffled shirt with a vest and breeches. The woman was stroking the man's auburn hair while talking to him softly. Hermione could vaguely hear their conversation and she tried to listen in but was pulled sharply out of the scene. Before she knew it, it was dark and she was being pinned to a wall by a tall black shadow. She could feel the shadow's hot breath on her face.

"_Nothing that pleasant lasts long. LEAVE NOW! You don't want to see the suffering_…" Images began racing through her vision. People, places, and objects: everything seemed to fly by so fast but at some points the visions slowed. One was a vision of the frontal side of a man's face; it was focused on the eye. She could vividly the small pupil amid a slate-gray iris, as the eye narrowed the pupil shrank and flecks of red in the iris began to pulsate. There were a few visions of a man with long graying hair facing with a mysterious man in a black hooded Arabic cloak holding a scythe. Several men surrounding him wearing white Arabic garments with white scarves wrapped around their heads and face and their eyes were blank white and the limited skin she could see around the eyes were a dark gray. Another image was with the same longhaired man clawing at the side of a door way as he crawled up to his knees trying to force himself up. More images flashed before she found herself face to face with the man, but his face was shadowed an unrecognizable. He held a pistol to her head.

"_Don't say I didn't warn you. I've told you people…_" There was a click and a bang. Hermione fell into blackness.

Hermione awoke feeling as if her head exploded. She groaned and turned to face the clock. It was still early. She found that the sun was just beginning to rise. For once in her life she felt lazy and did not want to get out of bed for the rest of the day. She raised her arm up to cover her eyes. Still she mustered the incentive to get out of bed to find a note slipped under her door. She unfolded it and it read:

_Ms. Weasley,_

_A man asked for you, but the Do-Not-Disturb sign indicated that you were unavailable. He said he would wait in the lobby._

_Concierge_

Sighing Hermione got dressed and raced down to the lobby. Roarke was waiting in the lobby. He looked as tired as Hermione was and maybe a little frightened. He, like her, was probably disturbed at what happened to the guard. He looked up to find her, and he wasted no time with morning greetings, "We have to go." Hermione didn't object and followed Roarke out of the hotel. They traveled across the street where Roarke's car was parked and Snape was leaning against it. He was wearing a black _Tool_ t-shirt, and dark blue jeans, and black Doc Martens boots, certainly not dressed for his work. "McDorren had to send nearly all of the employees home. Mount Vernon is closed."

"Just as we expected," Roarke nodded, "And the Mount Vernon Ladies' Association is working frantically with the media to calm the situation. Many who ordered membership tickets cancelled their order. The curator was advised not to open until the situation is handled. There is talk of her being fired."

"Fired? Why?" Hermione spun around, "She's done nothing wrong."

"These attacks occurred under her jurisdiction," Severus muttered, "But they would be fools to fire her and they know it."

"What's happening now?" Hermione glanced at one man then the other. Roarke pointed to Severus, "He has to lead us somewhere."

"And I would like to leave sometime today," Snape grunted as he opened the back door and crawled into the back seat. Hermione proceeded to enter the passenger seat while Roarke took the driver's seat. Roarke started the car and asked like a cab driver, "Where to?"

Severus muttered, "Pope's Creek Plantation."

They drove for about an hour, Hermione was hearing Roarke's concerns about the Muggle economy and government. She could understand his frustration as she herself became just as frustrated when it came to the British Ministry of Magic. They came to a large plain with what seemed to be an excavation occurring in the middle of it.

"Over here," Snape pointed to a dirt makeshift road. Roarke turned on the road and drove toward the site. Many of the men and women working turned and stared at the unfamiliar vehicle. "Stop here," Snape said. Roarke pulled over to the side and stopped the car. Hermione looked at the workers, something was not right about them. They seemed gloomy and a little wary. You would think that a Dementor flew by them. As they stepped out of the car, a balding man approached them. Severus stood in front of Hermione and Roarke.

"Excuse me, but who are you people?" the man asked. Snape took out a note from his back pocket, and handed it to the man. As the man read it his face lit up. "Are you here to solve the problems?"

Snape paused, "Problems?"

The man leaned in, "Ever since we found the site of Washington's birthplace. I have…we have experienced …things. Things that I cannot explain."

Severus sighed, "I am here on an investigation, but we will do what we can."

The man thanked him and returned to the excavation, while Severus wandered a few yards away from the site.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not sure, but something is not right," Severus murmured. He turned to face the open field. Roarke gently pulled Hermione away from Severus, as Severus lifted his hands to his blindfold. "Just stay back for a moment."

Snape pulled the blindfold down, opening his eyes.

_Stay in the shadows, Severus._

Hermione stood still, waiting for any indication for her to move. She just stared at Snape's back, he wasn't moving. "Severus?"

Severus twitched and turned his head back. Hermione nearly gasped at seeing his eyes. They were red-rimmed and the color of his eyes wasn't the usual endless black. They were a pale gold-yellow.

_She reeks of innocence_

Before he could see Hermione's darkened outline, flashes over-came him. He held out his hand. "Hermione, you'll understand later but I need to enter your mind."

Before Hermione could comprehend what he just said, she felt him penetrating her mind with such forcefulness that she felt that her skull was going to split in two. She closed her eyes in hopes to get rid of the pain, but then the pain stopped. When she opened her eyes she found herself in the same field but only there was a house where the excavators were. Animals and livestock litter the plain. She looked over to find Severus next to her, gripping her shoulders to keep her steady, only he was staring at a young boy not far from where they were standing. The boy couldn't be older than ten years old and he had long auburn hair. He was wearing a white silk shirt, breeches, stockings, and buckled shoes. A young girl in a plain 18th century dress ran up to the boy.

"George, the doctor just came for Poppa. Mother says we should see him too," the girl said tugging on the boy's shirt.

"What for?" the boy asked a look of concern growing on his face. The girl just tugged harder on his sleeve, "Don't question Mother."

The boy relented and hurried to the house.

"We have to follow them, Hermione," Severus murmured. Hermione looked up at him, but he wasn't looking back, he just nudged her forward. They entered the house and immediately heard the sound of frantic weeping. The followed the sound to a master bedroom. A man with the same colored hair as the young boy lay on the bed. Another man with a black uniform and spectacles stood beside him. A woman sat in the chair next to the bed weeping. The two children stood by her. The girl was crying in her lap, while the boy just stood by, a look of remorse on his face.

The man on the bed was sick. There was no doubt about that. His chest was heaving rapidly and blood ran from the corners of his mouth. He coughed and blood sprayed out. The doctor shook his head.

"Don't cry for me, Mary," the sick man gargled. The woman sniffed back a few tears trying hard to follow his instructions. "Augustine…" she whispered. The man regarded the little girl in the woman's lap. "Betty", he reached out for her. The girl took her father's hand, "Poppa?"

"I can tell, you're going to grow up to be a beautiful young lady," he said, but it only made the older woman weep. His eyes shifted to the young boy. The boy straightened his posture, though his chin was quivering. The man looked as if he was about to say something to the boy, but he just exhaled, his eyes turning lifeless. The doctor sighed and closed the dead man's eyes.

The doctor came over to the woman resting his hands on her shoulders in comfort, "I'm sorry, Mary." The doctor led the sobbing woman out of the room, leaving the stunned boy to stare at his father's corpse.

The vision blurred to memorial service, members all around wearing black, the women weeping, and the men looking remorseful. Hermione stared at the same the boy from the previous vision. He looked worn and tired, seemingly older than he really was. Next to him sat a tall, handsome man with brown hair neatly tied in the back. His hand was on the boy's shoulder, in an effort to console him over the loss of his father. Snape was beside her, "I believe that's Lawrence Washington, George's half-brother."

Hermione turned her attention from the boys to the mother in the front. The veil did little to hide her tears. The minister stopped his eulogy and proceeded to the contents of the will. George gave a small huff and suddenly stood from his seat. He quickly exited the parlor, leaving his mother and half-brother staring after him. The woman's gaze flicked over to Lawrence and he gave a nod and getting up to pursue his younger half-brother.

Snape and Hermione quickly followed Lawrence out of the house. George was sitting on the porch steps arms wrapped tightly around his legs. Lawrence put his hands on his hips staring at the young boy sadly. "George?" The boy didn't answer. Lawrence sighed and stepped forward and sat down next to George. He clasped a hand on his shoulder trying to get the younger boy to face him. "You handled it well. I'm impressed. You are no doubt ready to become the man of the house now, no?"

George snorted, "I have a feeling that mother won't let anyone become man of the house. She rarely let father become the man of the house."

Lawrence's eyebrows shot up, "Ah, I see." He then stood up, looking down at his younger brother in admiration. "If you need anything, I'll be there for you, George. Always. I wish to teach you what I know about society." Without looking back Lawrence opened the door and stepped back into the house.

Their vision fizzed out and Hermione realized they were in current times and out of the memory. Snape stood beside her, "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Hermione breathed. "Just little shaken."

They heard a shout coming from the excavation site. Hermione and Snape turned their heads towards the group of archeologists. One man was grasping his head as if he had an excruciating headache. A woman came up to him to see what was the matter. With a manic shout the man shoved her out of the way and took his shovel, waving it around.

The other archeologists stood their distance but the man started towards a few of them. A few of the bigger workers tried to restrain him, but it was a struggle and it would only be a matter of time before he would break free of his colleagues' grasp. Snape and Hermione ran towards the group. "It looks like he's possessed," Hermione stated and Severus nodded, "It would seem so."

The possessed man broke free, hitting a man on the head with the shovel. He continued to beat the man as he fell to the ground. Snape tried to get his attention, as the man brought the shovel back Severus took a hold of it. Snarling, the possessed turned his head glaring at Snape with wild eyes. Surprisingly Snape seemed unconcerned, even calm. With a snarl, the man grasped Snape's collar. With lightning fast speed, Severus took hold of the man's arm, twisting it. Severus shoved the man back, but he came back towards him. Within an instant, Severus hit him in the head with the butt of the shovel. The man stumbled; looking drowsy then fell to the ground.

The balding man they met earlier gasped, "My god…"

Roarke bent down to inspect the man who was attacked by the wild man. He was knocked and it looked like he broke his collarbone and blood oozed from his nose. "We need to get these two to a hospital," he said scratching his head.

"There isn't a hospital for miles though," a woman said. Snape leaned in and whispered in Hermione's ear, "Bind him." Discretely Hermione pulled out her wand and muttered a binding spell, in case the man awoke and started attacking someone.

"We'll take them," Roarke told the balding man. He shook his head, "No, I'm the supervisor they both are my responsibility. I'll take them." Roarke looked back at Severus. He had already placed the blindfold back over his eyes. Snape shrugged, "Suit yourself."

They drove back towards Washington D.C. Hermione stared out of her window trying to organize everything she had just witnessed into her head.

"The memory triggered the possession," Severus said out of the blue. "Upon entering the memory that 'spirit', if you will, was released and entered his mind."

"It didn't seem like a typical possession," she said.

"Knocking him out should've done the trick, it wasn't a strong enough emotional memory to completely take over his mind."

"It was sudden," Roarke looked in his rearview mirror, "I was shocked. He just snapped then you ran over."

"Hmm. Sounds like the possession occurred just after we exited the memory."

The sound of soft laughter came from the passenger seat. Roarke looked to his side, "Hermione? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she covered her mouth to silence her laughter. "I don't think I've ever been so excited about a case."

Snape scoffed, "Typical"

-------------------

Severus left Roarke's car and his beeper started to vibrate finding that Will Riggio tried to contact him several times. Last time he tried to contact him he left a text message. "Franzetti wants you to meet me over by D'Angelo's as soon as possible. It's urgent." Severus found that he had no choice but to find Riggio immediately.

Severus found Riggio, a young dirty blond man with glasses, standing outside D'Angelo's Deli.

"Severus," he said eyes wide as the dark man approached him.

"What is it now, Will? What does Franzetti want?"

Riggio reached into his jacket, "It's not what he wants but who he wants." He pulled out a photograph of young man with reddish hair. "Its Jonathan Murray. One of the sleezeball cops Franzetti knew from New York. The fact that he's in D.C. concerns the boss."

Severus' eyes narrowed, "I don't know if I should do it."

Riggio's eyebrows shot up surprised, "B-but you have to. What's going on? You never refused a Franzetti request. Well, no one has and lived anyway. Look, just find Murray, find out why he's here and report the information back to Franzetti."

"And then what?"

Riggio didn't answer, his mouth agape. Snape shook his head and took the picture, "Fine."

A/N: The events seen in Washington's life here are actually what happened. In general, his father died when he was eleven, and his mother was overbearing and severely strict. Some historians even say she was abusive towards her sons. Well Please Review!!!!


	13. A Brother's Words

Disclaimer: None of this is mine. If it was, I wouldn't be writing this. Or would I?

Chapter 14: A Brother's Words

Hermione saw him the next day at Mount Vernon, where she was told to meet him. "What's the next memory, in the time line?" she asked. Snape untied the cloth from his eyes. "Around the time his brother becomes terminally ill."

"Lawrence?"

Snape smirked, "So you do pay attention."

Hermione should have responded, but instead, she was staring deeply into his golden eyes. Very much like the deep black ones he used to have, his golden eyes were just as captivating and she felt lost in them.

"Hermione?"

She blinked, "Sorry, I was just…thinking."

Snape swallowed and cringed, "Open your mind for me."

Hermione nodded and he swiftly entered her mind. She was pulled into the interior of the Mount Vernon dining room. They were facing the table staring at a relatively attractive woman sitting at the side of the table. Hermione's breath caught as she caught sight of the young man that sat next to her. There was no doubt that this captivating young man was an older version of the young George Washington she saw in the last vision. The boy had to be in his mid to late teens and it was quite obvious that he was severely tall for his age and time period. Washington's shoulders hadn't yet spread out and he looked a little gangly, but his posture and his face revealed that even in his young age he held a presence.

The door to the dining room opened. Lawrence Washington entered through the entryway holding a handkerchief to his mouth, staggering slightly. George Washington immediately got to his feet and strode over to help his brother. Lawrence coughed before waving his brother away, "I'm fine."

George hesitated, but obeyed his mentor and sat down next to the woman. Lawrence went over to the woman and gave her a kiss on the cheek, "I'm fine my beloved. Honest."

The woman smiled, but there was still worry in her eyes. Lawrence took his place at the head of the table. Hermione took a closer look at the handkerchief. Spots of blood littered the white cloth. She turned to Severus, "Tuberculosis?"

Snape nodded. They were then pulled into the gardens. Where George sat next to a very pretty woman on a bench. It was quite obvious just by the feel of the memory and the way the young man looked at her, that he held some feelings for the young woman.

"You've done all you could for your brother, George. Barbados was hard on you as well," the woman said softly taking his hand in hers in what was meant to be a friendly gesture, but Washington swallowed hard and he looked uncomfortable.

"You don't understand, Sally. I feel like he is all I have left…"

"Nonsense!" Sally admonished, her dirty blonde curls jerking violently as she turned her head in his direction. "You have me and George William. And you are always welcome at Belvior."

Washington swallowed, "How can I…ever repay you both for all that you have been to me."

Sally smiled, "With nothing but your friendship."

At that moment, a shorter man who looked about a decade older than George came rushing through the gardens. "George, it's Lawrence…"

Washington sprang to his feet and rushed passed the man up to the house. They were pulled into Lawrence's bedchamber. The scene was all too familiar. Lawrence's wife sat at his bedside clutching at his hand. Lawrence's breathing was shallow and raspy. Very much how Washington's father looked before he died. George Washington skidded to a halt when he entered his brother's room, ducking his head slightly to fit underneath the entryway.

The look in his eyes one of immense worry, "Brother?"

Lawrence gave a weak smile, "Hey, George…" His body started to become wracked with coughs. The doctor moved to the side, allowing George to reach his brother's bedside. Lawrence immediately took his hand, squeezing it. "Listen to me carefully boy. You have to become a man now, make your way into the world without my guidance. Find a noble job, buy land, find a loving wife…I keep telling Colonel Fairfax that you have something about you that is different from all of us."

George didn't speak. "I don't know what it is about you but I believe, in time, you will find out that you are destined for greater things. My only regret is that I will not live to see it…" Lawrence let out a breath, and George moved away so his mentor could be with his wife.

After a few final words with his wife, the doctor moved forward and took out a watch, measuring the sick man's breathing until Lawrence's chest stopped. The doctor moved foreword, resting his hand on Lawrence's neck, trying to feel a pulse. George didn't wait to hear the doctor; he maneuvered out of the bedroom, and pressed his back against the wall. He slid down to sit, his head hung in despair.

Hermione looked back at Severus finding him staring down at the young man with a weird expression. She couldn't tell if it was contempt or stoic understanding in regard to Washington. They were pulled out of the memory abruptly, back into the parlor. Still, once she regained her footing, she turned back to Severus finding him putting his blindfold back over his eyes.

"Did you see it?" she asked.

"You mean a portion of his soul being drained? Yes. I'm surprised you noticed," he tried not to sound critical. "Legilimens and persons that have some connection to the spirit can see the changes in the soul when they enter a spirit's past."

"Connection?"

"It usually happens when a spirit feels a connection to another in a household. For example, if it were the spirit of a little girl the connection would probably go to a young child that enters the spirit's realm. I'm not sure this is a 'spirit' per se that would allow for such connections, though."

Hermione went silent. Those dreams she'd been having, were they more than just nightmares. What if, for whatever reason, Washington had somehow entered her dreams to torment her?

Ironically, visions flashed over her, as if she were dreaming. She was standing on an expanse of grass next to a large river. A man with graying auburn hair wearing a tricornered hat stood several feet away looking at her with guilt-ridden eyes. It was a melancholic sight, and it made her cry a little. She wasn't sure why. As she took a step the vision shifted to find herself lying on her back on a canopied bed. A man, she was sure it was the same man from before, crawled into bed next to her. Mentally she was shocked, but physically she felt…receptive. He maneuvered over her, his mouth found hers. Alarms went off in her head, but no sooner had the man started caressing her intimate spots when the vision wavered again. This time she was facing the man in a dark room. He was shirtless, on his knees, and arms bound behind his back. Blood was running from his nose and cut lip. A shadowy figure appeared behind him from the darkness. He was cloaked in black, the shadow from its hood hiding its features. The cloaked figure's long-handled scythe shone in the little moon light from the small window. Hermione looked around seeing the man's back. It was littered with fresh hash marks and lashings. Suddenly, almost lightning fast, the cloaked figure brought the scythe down plunging it into the man's back…

Severus turned around when he heard a loud thump. Hermione collapsed onto the floor. _No, please not her_. He feared that she was being possessed. He looked down at Hermione and bent over her, gently grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her gently. "Hermione, wake up." Frantically, he looked around the parlor, searching for any signs of a spirit. "Come on!" he yelled at the emptiness. No sound, he heard no movement. "Come on out and face me!" Severus yelled before he lowered his voice, grinning, "Or are you too much of a coward?"

A sort of deep humming growl resounded throughout the parlor. Then it became quiet, too quiet. Snape turned trying to find any sign of disturbance. As his gaze turned back to Hermione, something flung him into the wall. He landed, painfully slid back on the ground. A large shadowy mass drifted in front of him. Breathing heavily, Severus gave a short sinister laugh. "You've finally come out to play."

The mass growled and flung him back against the wall and held him there, it forcefully pressed the side of his face against it. "Let her go," Severus seethed. "Its me you want." He placed his palms on the wall and forcefully pushed himself away. The mist disappeared as Severus landed on all fours.

Straightening himself, Severus ran over to Hermione as she gasped of air, as if she were being drowned in water. "Hermione!" he cried gripping her shoulders. After she heaved a few breaths her eyes focused on him. "Gods," she whispered before she soundly slapped him across the face.

"How could you!" she yelled.

"What are you on about?" he asked confused.

Hermione raised her finger, as if she were a furious mother scolding, "You know very well what I am talking about. How do you explain that I saw you torturing a poor man to near death?"

Severus swallowed.

"I know these visions and dreams aren't just random stories put into my head!" she yelled, cornering Severus. Finally, he lunged foreword and grasped her arms. "Hermione!" he yelled trying to steady her. She stared straight into her face; tears, unshed, pooling in her eyes. What had she seen?

"I saw you. I saw you chop him within an inch of his life. Why?"

At a loss he answered weakly, "It's complicated…"

Hermione gave him an incredulous look, before fainting into his arms.

A/N: I can sense that those who already know who the man is in her dreams are cringing in disbelief at the intimate scene a laid out in Hermione's vision. Sorry, but its kinda part of the story. Please review.


	14. Jobs and Options

Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable is mine.

Chapter 15: Jobs and Options

Hermione woke up groaning. Her head felt like it was splitting in two but her back felt comfortable. She stretched on the large bed and opened her eyes finding herself in an unfamiliar bedroom. The bedroom was simplistically decorated, with geometric shapes giving off plenty of extra space. Several post-modern and contemporary paintings hung on the otherwise bare off-white walls. The bed she was in was large and comfortable with dark brown covers over white sheets.

Rubbing her eyes, she looked over to the side and nearly fell off the bed in shock. Jenatep sat next to her bedside, his hood still covering his eyes.

"Good God," Hermione gasped holding a hand over her beating heart, "you scared me."

"And I apologize. Mr. Snape told me what had happened and I came immediately. You passed out after the spirit possessed your mind and he took you here. This is his bedroom…"

The bedroom door opened and Minister Whitetail appeared and Rufus came scuttling through jumping on the bed, licking Hermione's face.

She giggled, "Hey Rufus. Did you take care of me, boy?"

Whitetail tried to smile but it was immediately turned upside down once Jenatep glanced over at him. They both turned their worried faces towards the woman on the bed. Jenatep opened his mouth first, "Ms. Granger, have been having odd dreams and visions lately?"

"I would equate them more to nightmares, but yes. Why?"

Whitetail's wrinkles deepened, "Snape maybe right."

Jenatep stood, the trinkets on his robes clinking, "Ms. Granger we have some distressing news. And this may or may not change how we go through the investigation. We are mainly worried if you will continue once you know…"

Hermione grew impatient, Jenatep was stalling with words, "Just tell me what's wrong."

"There is a possibility that this spirit at Mount Vernon, presumably George Washington, has developed some sort of connection with you. Severus told me what happened and thought that was a possibility."

"A connection? How will this affect me?"

Jenatep's hand stroked his chin, "That is hard to say. He could try to reach out to you, protect you, or harm you."

Hermione made to get out of bed, but Jenatep stopped her, "I suggest you don't get up. You may feel a little light headed."

Hermione ignored him, "Sir, I think I know what's going on."

Whitetail's eyebrows shot up, "You do?"

Jenatep's pulled up in a smirk, "Please inform us."

"I read something about a symbiotic curse the Greeks called it Skotinotes…"

Jenatep stood straight still his voice whispering, "The Darkness."

"The Darkness? What is that?"

Whitetail didn't seem to have any sort of clue of what Jenatep meant.

Jenatep heaved in a large breath. Hermione didn't like it at all. Jenatep was a mystic and knew all sorts of ancient magic, curses, and of the sorts. The fact that he seemed so upset did not settle well.

"It would be considered by modern standards a curse. The term 'curse' is too light to describe what it is. Even I'm not absolutely sure of it's capabilities."

Whitetail's face turned towards Hermione, "What capabilities?"

"The hell should I know!" Whitetail and Hermione jumped as Jenatep snapped, "All I can think is that, Ms. Granger, you are in more danger than you can ever imagine. The Darkness is unpredictable and the fact that Washington has developed a connection with you is even worse. The Darkness would to try convince him that you are against him. It will try to use him to consume you. That being said…"

Jenatep exhaled his breath looking out the window, "May the gods help us all. But why couldn't I have realized a connection before?"

Whitetail gripped Hermione's arm, his eyes staring into hers, "If you want to leave we understand…"

"Wait… what about Severus. Shouldn't he know what's going on?"

Jenatep's voice darkened, "I have a feeling he knows already, but…"

"I don't think he knows how to stop it," Whitetail finished.

"That's because _he _can't stop it. Washington has to control it on his own."

Hermione thought of all she had seen of the creator of the U.S. It was hard to believe that Washington was capable of such horrible things such as mauling guards beyond recognition. She also remembered the little girl's plea…

"There has to be a way to stop Washington from using the Darkness."

"In order to stop Washington, you have to confront him whole. By gathering all the memories. That's the only thing I can think of at this point." He turned his attention to Minister Whitetail, "Nevertheless, I will gather as much information I can from my superiors."

"_Your_ superiors."

The Egyptian mystic smirked, "There are those in this world who understand the magical nature of earth more than I do. You just have to know how to find them. The main issue would be trying to get such information from these…teachers."

Whitetail's face seemed to relax a little, but his eyes were still inquisitive, "Hermione are you sure that this whole ordeal involves this Darkness?"

"I read about it in an ancient copy of _Origins_ _of the Dark Arts_. It all seemed similar to Jenatep's analysis of what happened with Monstre De La Noir. I told Snape about it and he seemed to think it was a viable conclusion."

She paused as a question came to mind, "Where is Severus?"

"He's working," both men said at the same time, and that raised unasked questions.

Jonathan Murray sat on a couch in his rented apartment building in Chinatown, drinking Chianti. He seemed unnerved even when he heard horrible sounds of his guards being killed, their screams and their weapons and wands going off, but they didn't seem to stop who or whatever was making its way towards Murray. Finally his door flew open and a man in a bloodstained beater and black unbuttoned overshirt came in, a handgun drawn pointing at Murray's head.

"You must be this Snape that Salvatore has been raving about." It was clear by the tone of Murray's voice that he was not in the best of his wits, still his bulging blood-shot eyes showed a fear that was desperately trying to hide. "I suppose you are here to take my life."

Severus still held his aim firm, the voice in his mind chuckling, "_Heh, heh, just pull the trigger!"_

His own mind fought back, "Quiet."

"How can you do all that without a scratch? I am amazed. I know that nothing I can do can stop you from killing me. How about what I say…"

"Why does Franzetti want you dead?"

Murray seemed stunned at that question, "Does he really need a reason? I'm surprised that you even question it."

Snape made a point by jutting his gun forward, Murray panicked, "Okay, okay! It's who he's working with. I know that he's close with the British Aurory Head Vincent Shrote, and that's a connection that was supposed to be kept secret. If something leaked, the British Ministry of Magic would break all ties with Franzetti and he wouldn't get their benefits and protection, which he needs now that the Chicago and New York old mobsters have reclaimed all his assets after that drug ring fiasco."

"Why does the British Ministry want Franzetti?"

"They want cooperation from somebody to find some special power that I'm not so sure on. They thought it was here, based on some old prophesy dug up from the Department of Mysteries. I advised Franzetti against this I was afraid this would bring up old ghosts like You Know Who."

Snape smirked, "Or me."

He pulled the trigger. The bullet struck Murray in the side of the head, leaving a large gash in the dead man's skull.

"_Keh! One down!"_

Snape put the gun away under the back of his waistband and looked around. Drugs and alcohol littered the apartment. His head turned to the more illegal drugs, heroine, cocaine, and of the like. He cocked his head. It was obvious that all this had something to do with the hit. He shrugged and took some of the drugs and stuffed them in his pocket. He needed a good high after this. Snape reached inside Murray's jacket and pulled out his cell phone. He flipped it open and dialed. Someone answered on the other line, "Riggio, it's done, you can tell Franzetti he can sleep like a baby tonight."

He didn't wait for an answer, he threw the phone down forcefully and smashed it with his foot, making sure the memory chip was destroyed. He left the building before the authorities arrived.

"Where are we now?"

Hermione found herself standing in a heavily wooded area…and that's as far as she knew about the location.

"Somewhere near the Monongahela River, in Pennsylvania."

Roarke had dropped them off from his car. Hermione knew they were going somewhere far because he used a Floo device that teleported the car not far from the end of the Potomac River. Afterwards they drove through wooded and hilly terrain before Severus told Roarke to stop. Roarke stayed behind in the car; they didn't want to risk the chance that a 'spirit' would possess him.

Severus and Hermione hiked along a nature trail before Severus veered off into a large clearing. He gave a sharp intake of breath as if a sensation took him off guard. Severus shed his blindfold; his golden eyes adjusting to the light.

"Alright, here it is," he said darkly. This was the first indication that something bad was going to happen. Still Hermione opened her mind and Severus slipped through.

Now they were standing in a small army outpost. Guards, some dressed in red and blue uniforms and others in fur skins, paced along the outer edge. It was night and most of the torches were out indicating that most of the soldiers were asleep. They were standing next to one particular guard with fur skins and a thick brown beard. He held his musket at his shoulder. He seemed tired but he still tried to remain alert.

Suddenly, something caught the guard's attention. He held his musket at the ready, hesitantly creeping closer to the woods to see what was there. He peered through the shadows. At first there seemed to be nothing there, until quite suddenly a tomahawk flew from the shadows and split the guards' skull in two. A loud war whoop filled the air and the rest of the guards turned in surprise. Indians dressed in war paint flew out from the shadows and rampaged the camp. Soldiers filed out of their tents to try to stave off the native warriors but they were obviously overwhelmed. Severus ran further into the encampment and Hermione followed trying not to look at some of the carnage that was going on. He stopped and pointed.

Washington, a little older now appeared out of his tent in nothing but a white shirt and breeches and boots, a sword held tightly in his grasp. A native tried to tackle him, but Washington elbowed him in the face, causing the native's knees to buckle. Washington brought the sword down on his neck, but it didn't decapitate him. Instead Washington drew down across the collarbone as he wrenched it out. Blood spattered all over the colonial soldier's face, making him seem more angry and demented than he actually was.

Washington dodged and sliced his way through the onslaught of native warriors, but it was obvious he was beginning to tire, his strong muscles straining to work themselves. Natives grabbed a hold of him and pinned him to a nearby tree. One native whacked Washington in the gut with a musket. Another native brought out a knife and grasped George Washington by the throat, preparing to scalp him. The assaulting native brought the knife back, but was stopped.

A familiar man grasped the native's retreating hand. Hermione gasped, "Oh my god." She turned towards Snape who was still watching the whole thing intently.

"Is that…you?"

He responded with a cough. Hermione wanted to laugh but found that she couldn't not while staring at the supremely ripped Snape in Indian war paint and buckskins. Even his face was painted. She was in awe of his fit physique, surprised to see rippling muscles shining in the sparse light. _I wonder if he still looks like that. Wait, no I don't. Why would I?_

"This was serious business, Hermione. Disguise was necessary."

Past-Severus said something to the natives and they released Washington. Severus grasped Washington's shirt and flung him to the ground. "The leader wants to see you." He flung Washington's sword to the ground, "You'd better prepare yourself."

A large, giant of a native stepped forward, "This…mere cub…is the one who was able to assassinate Jumonville?"

The native gave a loud roar of laughter. This large native, had only a thin strip of hair that flared like the spine of a dragon, plumes and feathers attached that made him look like his hair was indeed grown from the wings of eagles. He was clothed in red buckskin with beads and trinkets attached to the fringes. In his mighty grip was a thick staff, the end of it thicker and rounded to form an effective club. Past-Severus backed away and headed toward a group of men who were clearly not natural natives. They looked more Middle Eastern than anything.

Washington stood, dragging his sword up. The air was thick as everyone stilled. The soldiers, the natives, everyone.

"Our people are not used to what you white men call a 'duel', but we are familiar to the rites of warriors." The large native brought the staff forward at the ready and lunged forward bringing the staff down on Washington's shins. He toppled back onto the dark ground.

"Come now," the native chuckled darkly. Washington mustered all of his strength and rose, and immediately dodged another blow from the native's staff. He swung his sword but missed the native, who responded with a punch across Washington's jaw making him stagger backwards. He regained his composure in time to duck a swing at his head with the staff.

It was a vicious give and take and neither one of them seemed to have the upper hand, though the native didn't seem as tired and Hermione figured that it would be only a matter of time before Washington's exhaustion would leave him completely defenseless.

Severus knew what was going on in Washington's brain. Washington had no choice but to dodge every attack the native gave him. Blocking with his weakened arms was too risky against the strength of the Indian brave. However dodging every attack was wearing him out even more. Severus knew the outcome, but still he had a little trouble watching the fight unfold.

Washington was on his last leg and didn't have the energy to dodge the overhead blow the native was bringing down. Washington brought his sword up, blocking the heavy staff. His feet sunk into the ground trying to keep the staff away from his body, and as he pushed upward the sword cut itself into the sturdy wood of the staff, even the native's arms were shaking. With a shout Washington mustered much of his strength and plowed forward, tackling the native to the ground. The larger native was sprawled on the floor as Washington picked himself back up. Immediately, the leader of the natives reached for the staff but it was too late. Washington plunged his sword in the very center of the native's abdomen, slumping with exhaustion. He twisted the sword in the body, and the native warrior let out a choking breath, expelling the last of his life force.

Washington stood there for a while, his body-weight low as he tried to regain his breath, but it was oddly silent, and Hermione didn't like it.

Suddenly, inky black vines burst forth from the native's fatal wound and traveled up the sword and quickly spread its way up Washington's arms and continued to meld into his body. Washington of course, panicked look at himself in awe and shock and almost pain. The blackness made its way up his neck and threatened to engulf his face. A blinding flash of lightning pierced Hermione's vision and there was Washington, looking normal, but staring at his hands in curiosity, rain beginning to pour. Still staring at his hands he didn't notice another native come up behind him and club him in the back of the head. That was the last thing Hermione saw before she was dragged out of the memory, facing the empty forest floor.

A/N: Hmm. Old habits die hard for Snape, eh? Let me know what you think.


	15. Carrying the Sins

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's, not mine. And George Washington is a part of history so technically I don't own him either.

Chapter 15: Carrying the Sins

In an instant they were pulled into another area, different from the other. They were in a wooden fortress. Standing in front of some military officers wearing white wigs and speaking in French.

Severus beside her paled as he recognized this memory. Hermione didn't notice as George Washington stepped into the office, wearing a dirty wool shirt.

"Ah, Colonel Washington," a French officer sneered, "It seems we have a bit of a problem."

Washington's expression didn't falter.

"Our scouts have captured an intruder from the British side. How about you take care of 'im"

Hermione turned to Snape, confused. Knowing what she was wondering, he answered, "Washington at this point turned into a double spy. Don't misunderstand this. Watch carefully."

The way he sounded was different, not nearly as impassive as before, he was clearly upset.

The French officer smirked and pointed towards the far door. Washington only hesitated for a second almost fearing whom he would see on the other side. He opened the door and entered a sparse dark room; the only thing in the room was a bearded man wearing buckskins, tied to a chair. Washington froze at the figure. He knew him.

"Captain DuPont?"

"I suppose they sent you to kill me," the man's gruff voice sighed.

Washington nodded taking his pistol out from his belt, "But I…"

"Quiet, you know your mission. Just do it."

The younger man sighed and without a moment of hesitation and with bitterness in his eyes, aimed his gun right at his ally and pulled the trigger. The loud shot made Hermione flinch. DuPont's head reeled backwards as the bullet hit him right in the center of the forehead, some brain matter spattering the wood wall behind him.

Hermione grimaced at the sight, but settled her gaze on Washington. He stared in shock at what he had done. His hand trembled as he dropped the gun on the floor. Dropping to his knees, Washington soon found a place on the ground to curl up and register what he had. He had killed his ally, his friend. All because he had to keep up appearances for the French soldiers next door.

He shuddered on the ground letting a few tears escape.

Hermione swallowed at the scene. She was struck with the situation. It was the exact same as… She turned to Severus next to her. His brow was furrowed with either concentration or the reliving of a memory. It wasn't an easy look to stare at.

Movements in the darkness caught Washington's attention. A low hissing sound and rumbles resounded throughout the room, filling the air with uneasiness that sent shivers up Hermione's spine. A dark unidentifiable mass formed from the shadows and settled in front of the corpse of the dead man.

"Who's there?" Washington's red rimmed and tear stained eyes faced the mass.

Inky dark vines, tendrils, serpentine creatures and little black demons that resembled larger more evil looking house-elves appeared by the side of the black mass. The dark thing spoke but it's voice seemed to coming from all directions, from the darkness itself.

_I am you. Your inevitable future._

Washington's grey eyes widened at the faceless entity, "No, you're not me. I would never submit…"

_You just did. Do you wish to cause more pain by the will of others? Or will you be the puppet of these humans?_

"Go away. Leave me be."

The entity chuckled darkly, the serpentine vines hissing and snarling, slits along their sides glowing an ice blue.

_In a moment three French soldiers will come in and run their bayonets through you seventeen times each. And you feel every stab and lie here and die slowly, painfully. I'm giving you a chance to rewrite history and take back what's rightfully yours. Embrace the Darkness…"_

Washington gripped his gun and brought the nozzle to his sweaty forehead, his eyes shut tight, "No! I'd rather die than submit to you!"

_And have your captain die in vain? And have the Virginia militiamen destroyed? And give this country over to France?_

He gave no verbal consent but he lowered his gun. The dark mass started pulsating and a white mist began swirling around Washington

"_Yes, embrace it. Your birthright…_

Just then, there came pounding on the wooden doors. Frenchmen on the other side started speaking and hollering in French. The door burst open and soldiers entered their muskets at the ready. Their eyes widened.

There in the center of the dark room was the silhouette of Washington, eyes glowing a blazing ice blue, and the creatures surrounding him snapping and hissing. Washington and the creatures sprang forward, the serpents sliding along the floor to spring back up and devour through one of the soldiers' chest and ripping out the heart, swallowing it whole. Washington's body gripped another soldier's face and with a mighty pull, ripped the top of his head off. The darkling imps were flaying the last soldier; his piercing screams never left the room.

Hermione felt sick to her stomach at the sight. Even her in time in the war she never had seen this much gore.

"Come on," Severus grabbed her wrist and headed through the open door out into the captain's chambers.

The captain was writing at his desk, scribbling some instructions down when he heard a small noise.

"Est-ce fait?"*

He looked toward the door. No one was there. He shrugged and resumed his writing. Soon his lone candle flickered out, leaving him in darkness. The door swung open and a tall dark figure stood, his eyes aglow. He lunged forward at the captain. Hermione closed her eyes but the sound of flesh tearing and the screams of the French man pounded through her skull.

***

When she found the courage to open her eyes, she was back on the forest floor. Hermione hunched over and expelled the contents of her stomach onto the grass.

She turned back to Snape and wiped her mouth, "That was-"

"-the Darkness," Snape finished for her, his eyes holding an emotion that she did not quite understand.

"Will you be alright?" he asked in surprisingly sincere tone.

"Yeah," she replied heaving in a few more breaths for good measure, "I just need to get those images out of my head."

Severus stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and waited for her to regain her wits.

"So what does this mean?" Hermione asked vaguely, "I mean, how did _that_ apply to now?"

"The reason why he's still here, stuck on this plain of existence is because the Darkness won't let go. He won't let go. As you heard the dervish, the Darkness takes apart the soul, and imprisons it. So he's stuck here, unable to move on."

"So all this violence towards the living is just frustration?"

"Anger and frustration yes."

"What happened afterward? Do you know?"

Snape nodded, "He escaped the French fortifications and returned to the British army."

"And the Darkness?"

"Dwelled within him, biding its time," Snape answered succinctly.

"There is still one thing that bothers me," Hermione said, "The other memories triggered possessions of some sort, why not now?"

She stopped as she took one hard look at the man accompanying her. His jaw was set tight as if he was secretly was fighting something.

"Are you-?"

"I'm doing my best to block it from my mind," he responded.

Hermione didn't know if she should run toward him to aid him or stand back. Severus finally turned and made to head out of the wood. Hermione rushed to keep in time with his steps.

"Can I ask a few more questions?" she asked meekly.

Severus groaned, "I suppose, but they better be good."

"Okay," Hermione inhaled a breath trying to figure out which question to ask first, "Those men with you, who were they?"

"Dumbledore had a connection in the Persian Ministry. He agreed to send some of the Immortals to help me."

She opened her mouth, but Snape cut her off, "Before you ask. Some of the ancient Immortals do exist, and they were and are magical and go through vigorous physical and magical training. There are few "true" Persians left but they are a force to be reckoned with. A young man who holds the ancient Persian imperial bloodline was Dumbledore's connection and he was nearly as shrewd and omnipotent as Dumbledore. Next question."

"How exactly did you accomplish this mission?"

"I had to stand distantly while watching through Washington's life. Occasionally make particularly harsh events even worse for him. Especially throughout the Revolution and presidency. Sometimes these persuasion methods were achieved through torture both mentally and physically, testing his resolve."

"So you sort of know him personally."

Snape merely nodded, "But he knew little of me."

"Then can you tell me what he was like?" Hermione asked allowing her bookish curiosity shine through.

Severus paused in his walk, struck with the question. He turned to face her.

"There are a lot of historians out there who try to dig up dirt to smear his name. Why? I don't know. They try, but they find it difficult because in the end they cannot ignore what he did, and how, in spite of some faults he was as great a man as there'll ever be." He turned back around to resume to trek towards Roarke's car.

"That's a compliment coming from you," Hermione said a little stunned.

"Because I've seen the man beaten down to nothing. He has seen more shit than, yes, the great Potter, and still he persevered. He had to fight the strongest Empire at the time with nothing but farmers all the while facing betrayal, treachery, me, Congress, and the demons lurking in the darkness, as well as build a nation from thirteen barely cooperative colonies. If that doesn't earn my respect I don't know what will," Snape took a breath, "Forgive me. It's hard to see a historical figure grow before your eyes and not feel some sort of connection."

"Understandable, but what about privately? Personality wise?"

It took a few moments before Snape answered, "He was reserved usually, kind, and respectful. When he was younger, he was ambitious, but was terribly shy and a little awkward. A hard worker, which is always admirable. It took a lot to get him angry, but when he got angry no one wanted be on the other end of his wrath. Darkness or no."

Hermione nodded, envying Snape a little for having met this pivotal figure in history. What would she give to meet Merlin, Queen Elizabeth, or Louis XIV? At least she could die knowing she met Dumbledore or Harry. But what about Snape? Would he be pushed back from the history books? Severus didn't seem like someone who wanted thorough notoriety, but he deserves at least some credit for Voldemort's downfall.

"There's the car, let's head back. Take some time to rest," Snape said softly, walking ahead towards Roarke's car. The way he sounded bothered her. He sounded…sad, of all things.

***

It was late when Severus arrived safely back in the apartment. He sat quietly on his leather couch staring out the large white obelisk illuminated by lights in the night. He felt bitterness and frustration as he gazed up that structure.

Rufus hopped on the couch and nudged his hand out of the way to rest his head on his lap. Snape stroked his soft head, leaning back on the couch, easing his muscles, and reflecting on the day.

His thoughts were interrupted when the phone in the kitchen. Rufus, hearing the noise, immediately jumped off his master's couch and followed him into the kitchen.

Severus picked up the phone and placed the receiver next to his ear…

***

Within the darkness of night, on top of a large apartment building, a man in a hooded sweatshirt dragged a dead body towards the large washed up billboard frame. Heaving the body over to the front of the frame, he tied the body to it.

He then brought a gas container and began pouring the liquid all over the limp body.

As a finishing touch, the figure bent down, and retrieved a small metal box from his back pocket. Flipping over the top, he pressed his thumb over the small wheel and with a few jerks of his thumb a small flame appeared. He lowered the flame below the body's feet where the flame caught a drop of the gasoline.

It was amazing how a flame to one drop of this liquid could make the whole body erupt in flame, like a beacon in the night sky.

The next morning papers all over the wizarding world had the headline:

_Deatheater Found Burned_

_Early in the morning Muggle police found the body of Deatheater Antonin Dolohov. Dolohov has been missing ever since the Dark Lord's death. His body was found tied to an advertising structure in Washington D.C. He was shot in the head by a Muggle weapon and then burned. American Ministry officials confirmed that the body was indeed Antonin Dolohov. The killer is still at large._

_* _Est-ce fait?= Is it done?_  
_

A/N: I'm sorry for so long between chapters. I am 90% accurate in terms of historical accuracy. I did tweak a few things for effect. Washington was never a double spy during the Seven Years' War. He was a spy master during the Revolution. Please Review.


	16. I'll Take One

All Usual disclaimers apply

Chapter 16: I'll Take One...

As Hermione read the paper over the coffee table of her hotel room, she couldn't deny the slight fear that settled in the pit of her stomach. Death Eaters were still out and about. But this came to her as a surprise. It seemed, by all reports, that Dolohov was keeping quiet. Many believed him to be dead, for god's sake. So, for someone to know where he was and brutally kill him made her think of someone seeking vengeance. But who in America would harbor such hate against him and then find out where he is?

Could it? Nah…

She knew Snape was a dangerous and mysterious man, but she just couldn't see him doing something so…extravagant. Not that Hermione thought that Snape needed an M.O, but if he had one it most likely be quick and clean. No use in wasting time on a dead man.

Snape's alleged modus operandi aside, if there was a guy out there hunting Death Eaters, would Severus be in danger? Well, the man has somehow cheated death once; perhaps he could do it again.

Dolohov's death aside (even though Hermione was glad that prick was dead), she had more pressing issues to deal with. The investigation was getting too complicated even for her. With Washington, the Darkness, and other curses and dark forces running around, it was quickly becoming too much to handle.

Crookshanks perked up and gave a shrill meow, his keen eyes towards the door. Next, Hermione could hear scratching and clawing at her hotel room door.

She gripped her wand, and opened the door. No one was there, but she looked down. There, panting, was Rufus.

"Rufus! What the-?" Hermione was utterly stunned that a dog would run clear across town and up thirteen floors and find her exact door. Severus was right. This dog was a genius.

Hermione bent down and stroked the Corgi's ears, "What is it boy? Why did you come all the way here?"

Snape's dog gave a short bark and ran off.

_Shit._ Hermione thought that, for some reason, this dog was pulling a Lassie, trying to get her to follow him. Either way, she could not, on good conscious, just let Severus' pet run across town.

She chased after the dog into the elevator. Thank god it was empty. Hermione descended the floors with pacing Corgi next to her. Right when the doors opened on the first floor, he scrambled out causing a few waiting for the elevator to jump back in surprise.

Needless to say, Hermione followed the dog racing down the streets, causing even the most eclectic wizard to stare. Eventually, she found herself in front of Snape's apartment building. Rufus led her up the stairs to his penthouse. The dog nudged the cracked door open and rushed inside. Hermione wasn't so urgent. She politely knocked on the door.

"Severus," she called into the apartment, but there was no response. As she entered, she couldn't help but fear that he would pop up and yell at her like she was back in her school days, bickering about personal privacy or some other nonsense.

"Severus?"

A loud bark caught her attention and it was coming from Snape's bedroom. The door was cracked open, but she didn't just rush in. Hermione could imagine that if she did, he would probably be naked or something. That would be her luck.

Still she knocked on the door, "Severus, are you in there?"

All she could hear was Rufus's response.

"I'm coming in," she announced, hoping he was decent.

Opening the door, she was first struck with Severus' body lying on his back on the floor, next to the bed. Rufus' short paws were resting on his master's chest, standing vigil.

Hermione immediately got on her hands and knees to check for a pulse. If there was one, it was faint. Hermione called his name, trying to rouse him manually and magically.

_Come on. Come on. Wake up. What the hell happened?_

Hermione scanned his body, trying to see if there was anything at odds.

There. On his arm. Are those track marks? A bruised puncture mark was prevalent on his inner forearm right above where the Dark Mark should have been. Not far was a hypodermic needle.

_Was he doing drugs? He must've overdosed. Dammit, Severus, of all the stupid things…_

Hermione went straight to the bathroom. Chances are if Snape was chronic drug user, he had something to get rid of some of the nasty side affects- Oh, yeah, there they were. Not very convenient though when you live alone.

She grabbed the purple and green vials and returned to Severus' body. She poured the contents of both vials down his throat and waited impatiently for the potions to take effect. She flipped him over (with effort) onto his stomach and began to pound on the center of his back. Snape coughed and sputtered, spewing the poison the drugs put in his system onto the floor.

He groaned and collapsed, still unconscious.

Breathing out, Hermione got to her feet, hands on her hips. With dismay coursing through her body, she levitated him onto his bed. As much as she was stunned at his condition, Hermione had no idea why she was surprised that he was an addict. Anyone who had been what he's been through would want to seek solace in the form of pills and needles.

Rufus yipped and managed to jump onto the bed (no small feat with his tiny legs) and began to lick his master's face, trying to rouse him. Once again, Snape just groaned.

Hermione opened the bedroom door, "C'mon Rufus, let's let him rest."

Rufus jumped off the bed and obediently followed Hermione out of the bedroom.

Hermione thought it was only right to stay in Snape's apartment while he was recovering, not that she minded. His apartment was nice, and the view…well, it was better at night, but during the daytime it was just as fantastic. It was like feeling you could see everything in the city.

But there…that white obelisk. It stood proudly as a memorial to the nation's creator. Hermione wondered just how many people in America—or the world for that matter—knew of the darkness that surrounded that man.

Hermione shuddered. For some reason, even thinking about Washington caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up.

_The Darkness…is powerful_, her mind made the conclusion, _Maybe this is something that one of the Golden Trio can't handle._

The obelisk, which to many Americans symbolized greatness, pride, and power, was something foreboding and menacing to Hermione.

A knock came at the door and Hermione tore her gaze from the D.C. skyline. She opened the door and on the other side was a black woman with short hair. The woman's eyes went wide but then she smiled.

"Well now. I didn't know Severus would have company," she said with a smirk, putting a hand on her hip and arching her eyebrow.

"Well I-" Hermione began, but the woman thrust out her hand, holding envelopes and pamphlets.

"Here's his mail," she said with a bob of her head. "He asks me to hold onto it when he's out working for long periods of time. I'll tell you, girl, I am jealous."

"But…"

"Shawnda!" a man's voice called from the door caddy corner to Snape's. "How long are you going to take? I can't find my good work shirt."

"Darnell! Shut up!" she shouted back, "Darnell, you've got to take a look at this. Severus had a lady friend stay overnight!"

There was silence, but then a bald black man popped his head out of the door. His eyes stared in shock before he clucked his tongue, "Damn! And she's fiiine!"

Shawnda rolled her eyes, "Darnell! I'm not going to ask you again…!"

"I-I'm not his girlfriend…I just…"

"You don't look like a hooker," Darnell blurted out and Shawnda looked like she was going rip the man's head off.

"I'm just a co-worker," Hermione explained, her cheeks blushing furiously, "I was just visiting."

Shawnda was skeptical, which was prevalent by the pursing of her lips and arching of her brow, "At 9:30 in the morning, girl?"

At the other end of the hallway, and older man shoved a door open going into the hall with nothing but a parted plaid over shirt, a white shirt, and pajama pants.

"Ey! Can you guys keep down, huh?" the man had a thick Eastern European accent, and he spoke in clipped tones, "People want to sleep in this place."

"Yo, Emil. Severus has a girl over," Darnell pointed out calmly. Emil looked surprised and he smirked, "About bloody time. Good for him…"

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes, "You guys have got it all wrong."

"Sure girl. But I can tell you that man has some talent under the sheets. I have a sixth sense about those sort of things and it's helped me out a lot," Shawnda pointed to her boyfriend, "Do you think I stay with _that _man for his personality?"

Darnell looked horrified, "Say what?"

"Good luck," Shawnda waved as she walked back into her apartment, Darnell staring at her dumbfounded.

Hermione closed the door of Snape's apartment, heaving a sigh of relief. Well, his neighbors were really overwhelming, but they were nice enough to take care of his mail. She laid the mail on the kitchenette bar, resisting the urge to go through it.

Rufus barked, drawing her attention to the couch in the living area. The pooch was sitting on the couch, tongue hanging out. Hermione smiled at the dog, giving a mental "your welcome" since the dog looked thankful. She sat on the comfortable couch and scratched the dog's ears.

"You are a smart boy, aren't you?"

The dog rested his head on her lap wanting her company and Hermione felt obligated to give it to him. Although Hermione thought that every moment she stayed in the apartment would add more fuel to the neighbor's gossip fire.

Leaning back on the couch, she glanced at Severus' impressive book collection, interested in the titles. It was no surprised he had non-fiction all over, like potions articles, historical tomes, and many more. She was however surprised at the sparse fiction. Shakespeare, Milton, and Dante didn't surprise her as much as the historical fiction about the Middle Ages, ancient China, Persia and…the Faerie realm? That was an odd one.

Her eyes traveled back up to the non-fiction where there were an abnormally large amount of books about demonology and hell. Something heavy reached the pit of her stomach as she read the titles especially when she saw Nicholas Remy's _Daemonolatreiae libri tres_ and _Malleus Maleficarum_, which were prominent books used by witch hunters during the Inquisition era. But beside that lay a long thin mahogany box, seemingly inconspicuous. The snoop inside her took over and she wished she just read his mail, but now she approached the bookcase and reached up top. As she got a closer look, she realized it was a wand box.

_I put my wand away._

His words rang through her ears as she opened it. Inside, was his long, thick, ebony wand, unused for years. Yet, he still kept it, but why didn't he use it? Not that he needed to, Snape was amazing at wandless magic.

* * *

Severus was thrust into an abyss that he could not wrench himself out of. Images and voices poured over him. Usually he would try to pull himself out of these things but he had given that up a long time ago.

_Do you see it Severus? Ohh how cruel can fate be?_

The Darkness poured him an image into his eyes. A tall man in a farmer's outfit and a tricorn hat bent down to one knee. A small girl beamed at him and ran into his arms. The man held her to him close and Severus could see the worry and sadness in the man's face.

_She dies…_the Darkness hissed in distant voice that chilled Snape's bones.

_One of his many weaknesses…_

Blurred images rolled through. All he could make out were a few scenes. One was of a tall, long black-haired man in ebony armor yelling but no noise came out. His eyes glowed a deep red as darkness enveloped his armor and began crawling on his skin. Next came a picture of a graceful man with silky long black hair standing in the snow, wiping blood off his long blade and off his beautiful face, eyes glowing a cold violet.

_They all had weaknesses…_

He found himself in a dark chamber. It was dry inside, designs lining the walls, but in front of him stood a statue. For some reason what the statue was of wasn't registering in his brain. Snape reached outward, trying to touch it, but he was wrenched into the darkness.

_Show them that you are the strongest…just like you did with that Death Eater._

_Show them all…_

Then the Darkness mercifully thrust him back into reality.

Severus awoke with a gasp, disappointment flooding his brain. The drugs usually kept those demons at bay, getting rid of his subconscious. Now that they didn't work…

* * *

Hermione closed the box with a snap when she heard rustling from the bedroom. Quickly placing the box where she found it she turned just in time to see Snape stumble into the living room, groaning.

Once he saw her, grumbled, "What in God's name are you doing here?"

"Well, you look like shit, but surprisingly well for someone who just injected poison into their system."

Sighing and sitting on the couch he grumbled, "I forgot. You're a mother."

Hermione's mouth gaped open, just like a mother insulted by her obstinate child.

"Well, I never…I save your life after you overdose and this is what I get?"

Snape wouldn't look her in the eye and it was then that she realized how much of a mess he was. He was a zombie, had no family, no friends, was totally dependant on the pills and juice he put in himself. All just to make the nightmare of his past go away. At least that was what she assumed. Maybe he was cursed for life.

"How long was I out?" Severus murmured rubbing his eyes.

"I have no idea," she smiled down at Severus' dog and patted his head, "Rufus dragged me here just in time."

"Thanks…"

"Your welcome," she replied tersely folding her arms.

"I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to my dog."

Hermione rolled her eyes. In a change of attitude, he sat up and politely offered her a drink.

"I have coffee, and you probably haven't had breakfast this morning."

"No thanks, had some coffee before I came here."

Snape made himself some coffee anyway and there was obviously something on his mind.

"Hermione…"

She glanced up at him.

"We are at the finishing stretch into the Washington investigation. I know where most of his soul is…"

A/N: I know I don't update this story much. But here's a chapter detailing Snape's risky lifestyle. He's dead right? Why not have a little fun? His neighbors are based on my neighbors, the greatest neighbors anyone can ever have. Love you Shawnda, Darnell, and Mr. Lusck!


	17. Times That Try Men's Souls

See chapter One

Chapter 17: Times That Try Men's Souls

Of course when Severus revealed that he found the last piece of the puzzle, Hermione felt left out. The anticipation, however, was killing her resolve. Twinges of fear flooded through her since neither she nor Severus would know what would happen if they released the last piece.

It must've been a really big piece to have so much of Washington's soul in it. Even though Snape told her to rest for the upcoming day, she had trouble doing so. Even spending the day cataloging the contents Malfoy found in Snape's office didn't prevent her mind from going astray. She finished, though, and it was only right to give him his belongings back.

After a restless night's sleep, she awoke and spent the day watching television biding time before she was to meet Severus. After dinner delivered by room service she headed to Snape's apartment where he told her to meet him. Hermione figured, that once Severus gave her a detailed plan, her nerves might ease.

However, when she reached his apartment, there was a note on his door:

_Hermione,_

_I have already left for Mount Vernon. I need you to go into the artifact section of the Educational Facility. When you meet me there we will begin._

_-S_

"Then what was the point of meeting at your place?" she murmured aloud, ripping the note off the door and crumpling it. She placed the tarnished note into the pocket where she kept the shrunk box of Snape's belongings.

* * *

No one, as far as she was concerned, was at Mount Vernon, except for Snape…somewhere. Yet, by now, Hermione's nerves were on fire. It was dark and quiet outside and there was that uneasy feeling she got when she felt that someone or something was watching her.

As Hermione opened the glass doors to the artifact section of the Education Center, she remembered the last time she was here. As a precaution she kept her wand at the ready. Now where was Snape?

Hermione wove through the rooms, looking for the man and it was only that she reached the back of the exhibit when she heard it. It was a soft, melancholic tune and it sounded like it came from a music box. Hermione turned into one of the back rooms, where delicate jewelry and artifacts were on display. The sound seemed to coming from here. There, in the center, was a porcelain doll rotating on a silver base. The sound penetrated the silence even more when she realized that she was alone. Snape was gone. Where the hell was he?

Slowly, she approached the two-hundred-year-old music box and placed her hand on top of it, causing the sound to stop, her own breathing the only sound in the eerily quiet room. Hermione took notice of a locket resting beside the box, a note lying underneath. Lifting the locket, she inspected it. The violet locket hung by a thick gold chain and a man, given the masculine gold designs weaving across dark purple surface, probably wore it. The note underneath was clearly written by Snape, his spidery scrawl scratched across the small slip.

_Hermione,_

_This locket I'm afraid is the last of the keys. Once it is opened, there is no turning back. I would advise that you get Aurors and professionals to aid you in this before opening it as I am incapacitated at the moment. If, for some reason, the quintessential Gryffindor bull-headedness overtakes your sense of reason I only ask that you prepare yourself._

_It has been a pleasure working with you Hermione, more so than I could ever imagine._

_Thank You and Goodbye_

_S. Snape_

Hermione reread the note twice more, not because she didn't understand his instructions, but his underlying tone was a mystery. The last few words were goodbyes, as if he knew he would never see her again. Now, Hermione was really curious as to where he was and what was going on. Had Washington attacked him when he tried to open the locket? They had gotten this far, why quit now.

_Fuck it_, she thought. Yes she was being bull-headed, as Snape would put it, be she didn't get this far in the investigation only to have a brick wall placed in front of her. Preparing for the worst she opened the locket…

Again, images flowed through her head. She saw Washington bending down to kiss a lovely smaller woman on the cheek. He was horse riding with a few other men, sitting straighter and taller than all the others. In another scene he placed a young girl on his shoulders, so she then towered over all others as they walked down a crowded cobblestone street. He sat beside the same girl showing her the rotating figure on the music box while the girl watched, amazed at the gift. These were happy images and Hermione felt warmth flood her heart at seeing such tender moments. But what soon followed, was anything but tender or happy. Hermione was shoved into a scene, in very much the way she usually did under Snape's Legillimency technique. The same girl from her dreams and plagued these visions sat at a harpsichord, practicing the keys. Her father came into the parlor followed by her mother. The girl's face lit up when she saw the tall man.

"Papa!" she cried as she ran to greet him, by wrapping her arms around his thighs and hugging his legs. Washington's face, Hermione was used to seeing it so hard etched and stern, softened as he patted his daughter on the head.

Martha Washington laughed softly, "She's been restless all day. She couldn't wait until her father came home."

"And were you good when I was gone?" he asked the girl, gently prying her from his legs.

"Yes, sir!" she replied with great enthusiasm, "And I have been practicing my scales."

Washington gestured to the harpsichord with his large hand, "Then by all means, Patsy, give us a demonstration."

The girl was surprisingly light on her feet for the style of dress she was wearing. She sat on the bench and played a small tune.

Hermione never liked the sound of a harpsichord. She always thought the tones where too shrill and sharp, but it was obvious that Patsy was a skilled player. Once she was done, she stood up to face her parents and to curtsy after her performance. Then she staggered a little before collapsing on the floor, her body seizing and jerking violently. Immediately, Washington was on the floor, by his daughter's body. He began calling her name, hoping to see if she would snap out of it. He pulled a thick iron ring from his pocket and placed it between her teeth, while his arms tried to hold her still.

Martha already instructed a servant to ride for a doctor, but other than that she was stricken with grief. A strong black man, a slave, was gripping her shoulders tightly to keep her away from the body. She was crying her husband's and her daughter's name.

Finally the girl's seizing stopped. A sigh of relief filled the room, but Hermione, who was this casual non-existent observer, could feel her heart pounding in her ears.

Washington began to gently shake her, calling her name, hoping she would wake. The girl didn't wake. Hermione was shaking at the scene. She had a son and a daughter and she could never imagine something like this happening, but it struck her. She didn't know if it was residual feelings from the memory, but this whole thing struck her heart. She watched Washington as he tried in vain to wake his daughter, but it was over. Little Patsy was dead. Martha, eyes staring at nothing, sank to the floor and Washington's mouth opened in a primal scream of grief but no sound came out and Hermione was the only one who could see his grey eyes turn a to soulless glowing blue.

Hermione was dragged away from the scene and was met with small bits of scenes, like Washington in bed touching the shoulder of his bereaved wife, but her back remained facing him. Subsequent images were worse. It showed him, a little older, bringing his sword down on a man in a red military coat. He was yelling at an older officer who held a smug smirk and Hermione could feel the power rage coming off his presence. It was unrelenting and out of control, even as he kicked a stool from under a man, whose neck was tied to the branch of a tree by a rope. The man's neck snapped with a sickening crack. She found herself watching a line of barely clothed soldiers walk in the snow, their shoeless feet leaving bloody footprints.

Foreign soldiers were roused in the darkness of their cabin, Washington standing defiant in the doorway. The disoriented soldiers began shouting in German pointing their weapons at him, but the few candles flickered out leaving them into total darkness…except for the blue eyes of Washington and the glowing eyes of demons of the Darkness. Within seconds, all she heard horrified grotesque screams as the soldiers were slaughtered…

The next thing Hermione knew she was lying on her back. Her vision was blurred but she could make out the silhouette of a man looking down at her.

_Never leave the light…_

Her vision faded to black and she saw Snape, his blindfold on, sitting in a chair inside the dark parlor…

Her eyes opened and she was left on the wooden floor, intense emotions making her body shudder. She clenched her hands and realized that the locket was still in her hand. Heaving herself on her feet she took the time to see what was inside the locket besides memories. Inside were small personal portraits of two women one younger and another older. Even though the portraits weren't totally accurate, she knew who these girls were. Patsy and Martha.

He kept his two loves so close to him, hidden from the Darkness and his sins. She turned around towards the entrance of the room. For a moment, she thought that those two beacons were standing behind her, lighting the way…

* * *

"I always admired your skill and cleanliness, Severus," a snide voice drawled.

Snape was bound and tied to a chair in Washington's parlor. Great. Just great. He'd be spending most of tomorrow cleaning and repair what damage was to be done in this noble house.

Snape was one man facing more than a dozen men armed with wands and guns. Franzetti was in the middle, wearing a smirk underneath his beard.

"But I am SICK of you going off, stealing stashes that are mine, and doing your own things without me knowing," Franzetti gave a sharp nod to the man nearest Snape. He brought the end of his gun to the side of Snape's face. The bound man grunted but didn't cry out in pain.

"So what is it you're trying to do? Take over the business?"

"You're paranoid," Severus grumbled but to his horror, a woman entered the parlor, shocked.

Immediately, Hermione drew her wand and blasted one of the men back and disarmed another but one man pounced on her from behind.

"What the hell is this?" Franzetti shouted as the one of the men dragged her to her feet, his gun pointed at her throat.

"Hermione…"

"What's going on, Severus?" she asked trying not to let panic creep into her tone.

"Shut up," the man holding her growled.

"Is this what you want Snape!" Franzetti yelled causing Severus to cringe. If they were too loud…

"Do you want us to kill her too? Because you know we will! I just don't know whether to do it in front of you or after you die."

Hermione closed her eyes and swallowed, clenching the locket in her hand tight. Maybe she could kick the guy in the bits and make a getaway, but that would leave Severus…

Suddenly, what little light that was in the parlor went out, drowning the room in complete darkness, except the moon that lit Snape's figure. This couldn't be good.

"What the hell is this?" one of the mobsters yelled.

"What's going on!" Franzetti seethed, "Did you do this?"

"No I didn't," Snape said in an unemotional tone, "but you boys are in for a mess of trouble."

Severus turned his head in Hermione's direction, "Hermione…I'm sorry…"

Right then a thick black vine emerged from Severus' torso, blood staining his white shirt as the thing impaled him.

Guns went off and wands fired blind curses as the men panicked. Something was in the darkness. Her captor held her tight but she caught sight of one of the serpentine Darkness entities slithering towards them before it rose and sunk its teeth into the man's face. Hermione dove to the floor, into the moonlight. Much to her horror, screams and cries filled the parlor, and blood splatters began staining the lit surface and she saw a few bodies being dragged into the darkness, as they clawed for their lives.

Hermione turned her face up towards Snape. He was definitely in a bad way, but he was still alive, barely. A dark bloody hole was in the center of his torso, and it was evident, to her sorrow, the he would die in seconds if not helped. She crawled to him, using her robes to try to plug up the hole and stop the bleeding.

"Hermione," Severus groaned softly.

"Just hang in there Severus, I'll get some help. But you've just got to hang on."

Her shook his head vigorously.

"Hermione, it's no use…"

"But…" He couldn't die. No, not when she'd just found out he was alive. It wasn't fair. Everyone in England would be so happy to see him. To meet him. Harry would be ecstatic. She shouldn't be the only one to know he had lived. No one would believe her.

He jerked his head towards the shadows. Slowly, Hermione turned her head towards what he was seeing. There still in the shadows was a tall figure, dressed in the darkness, his pale face staring unemotionally at her.

Her heart beat fast. What was Washington going to do? He was just standing there in the flesh. His cold eyes were piercing and held her gaze, but it was if he was a statue. Hermione glanced back at Severus and saw his state. Blood began pouring from his mouth.

"Oh god…" she gasped.

"Listen to me…" Snape rasped. "When you get back, get someone you trust from the British Ministry. Potter, Kingsley, I don't care. Tell them that there's a prophesy in the Department of Mysteries, that's been recently handled. Someone has to remove it. I think the British Ministry is up to something that can't be good."

As he was saying this, Hermione noticed that shadows began creeping up the chair and grabbing hold of Severus, slowly pulling him into a black abyss.

"I don't know how much longer I have…Hermione…"

Hermione kept her grasp on his chair," C'mon Severus, if you could just hang in there…"

"They want me," Snape sighed.

She couldn't feel more helpless as she was watching this man die before her eyes, watching him slowly being dragged into hell. Before she realized it, she had already pressed her lips to his, tasting his blood. She cupped his chin and pursued with the kiss, certain that the only reason Snape wasn't refusing her was that he was too weak. What she was uncertain of was the reason why she was kissing him in the first place, but it broke her heart to see him go. A tear slid down her cheek as she broke away in time to see Severus be completely engulfed by the Darkness.

Now it was her and Washington.

Anger coursed through her at seeing him die. Hermione clutched the locket in her hand and whipped around, "You coward! Is that what you want!"

Hermione held the locket out, dangling it by the chain. "You can have it!"

She tossed it across the moonlit area, "Take it! And I hope you wallow in their disappointment as you rot in hell."

She didn't bother to watch him any further and she collapsed on the ground crying her eyes out, but she was silent about it. There was silence in the place and it seemed like forever until she heard the hard clunk of a boot and the jingling of a chain, as Washington picked up the locket. Hermione heard the footsteps continue across the parlor and up the stairs until there was utter and complete silence. Loneliness continued to grip her until she blacked out.

A/N: There you have it. Severus' death (again). And before you all stop following this. I will tell you that this is not finished. Far from it. This is just the end of part one. On another note, I found it interesting that Prince family colors on their heraldry coat of arms are red and gold. Gryffindor colors. No joke, go look it up. I don't know if that was intentional or not. Please review or leave comments. I want to know how I can improve my writing.


	18. Sinnerman

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Darkness. Those are all creations by people who have a better imagination than I.

Chapter 18: Sinnerman

After swimming in the sea of unconsciousness, Hermione finally awakened in a familiar room. It was déjà vu all over again, except this time she was silent issuing a slew of violent curses in her head.

_Son of a bitch._

Snape. Snape was gone again. He slipped right through her fingers, devoured by the Darkness. Hermione wasn't nearly as sad as she should have been. She was just pissed. _Stage two of the grieving process,_ she guessed.

Even as Hermione thought that she glanced at her surroundings. Somehow, she had ended up on Snape's bed in his apartment. Maybe it was a dream and if she opened that door, he would be on the other side, making a mixer or something.

Creeping out of bed, she opened the door of Snape's room and glanced across the main room of his apartment. Immediately, she saw Jenatep behind the counter, pouring himself something strong to drink. The man's hidden identity didn't portray anything, but his lips curled and he paused from his pouring.

"Ms. Granger, glad to see you are well."

Hermione seethed and she rushed to the man, slamming her hands on the counter leaning over it as if she were going to vault after him. Jenatep stepped back a little but was hardly intimidated.

"Don't you 'Ms. Granger' me, you slimy, obscure prick! What the HELL was that!"

"Ms. Granger…"

"Shut it! I know you know what is going on and unless the next words out of your mouth are an explanation, don't bother saying anything!"

"Calm down, Ms.—"

Hermione abruptly snapped her fingers, "Nah!"

"But-"

"No!"

"Why can't—"

"Nope!" Hermione leaned forward and her voice dipped to a dangerous whisper, "Not…a…word."

Jenatep pursed his lips closed and she turned on her heel.

"Ms. Granger you need to settle down—"

"Where's my wand!" Hermione couldn't help but pretend to rummage around, "Where the hell is my wand! I'm going to blow your face off!"

Before she could even continue her search the door to the apartment opened and Minister Whitetail entered carrying a cardboard box. Immediately, he paused staring at Hermione and then at Jenatep. The man could sense the intensity and anger in Ms. Granger.

"Oh boy…"

Flustered like no other, Hermione managed to gather deep breaths into her lungs and calm herself down. She felt so ashamed at behaving like neurotic bitch. She sank onto the couch, next to a depressed Rufus and covered her face with her hands, trying not to cry.

In the distance, Hermione heard a sigh.

"We should tell her," Jenatep said softly taking a sip of the vodka he had poured.

Whitetail glanced back at the distraught woman and nodded. Together, both men approached the couch.

"I am so…sorry," Hermione choked out in a half sob. "You both know I have nothing against you."

"Of course, we understand," Jenatep's voice dipped to rumble that Hermione found oddly comforting.

"Were you the ones that found me at Mount Vernon?"

"No," Whitetail laid the box he was carrying heavily on the floor. He took his seat in a lounge chair not far from the couch, "McDorren found the horrific mess and contacted me immediately. A couple of agents and I proceeded to clean up that…horrific mess."

"But those men…who in gods name were they? They seemed to have a beef with Snape."

"Yes," Whitetail said with a jerking nod, "His role in the Franzetti family probably became tiresome for both parties."

Hermione was tired of all this evasion, "Just get to the point. I can sense I will not have any clue what's going on anyway."

From her other side, Jenatep chuckled lightly, but stopped, as it was apparent that Hermione was not in a very humorous mood.

"Anyway," the Minister continued looking nervously at Jenatep, who was holding onto his glass of vodka with a tight-iron grip. "After Severus Snape arrived within the American Ministry's jurisdiction, we knew that he needed protection. Well, not protection in the physical sense, but from the media. He wanted to erase his presence from the Wizarding World in Europe. Yet, when the spy who helped befall Voldemort slips in your hands, you don't let it slip away."

Hermione withheld a glare. Again, it seemed that no matter where Severus ended up he was always a tool.

"He has been helping us track down loose Death Eaters, or keep tabs on them. But more importantly, he has been infiltrating some crime families. Franzetti would be the big one."

"Jesus! It's like Voldemort all over again."

"Only this time, Franzetti's not a megalomaniac. He's not nearly as powerful as Voldemort either. However, he has been altering Muggle weapons and infusing them with magic for devastating purposes. Imagine shooting out thirty Cruciatus curses a second."

Hermione's eyes widened and she shivered. Somehow being a victim of torture and witness to it made her feel a little bit queasy that people are making weapons to dish it out tenfold.

Whitetail nodded, knowing he had a made a point, "Now you see why we had to have someone keep a close eye on Franzetti. Unfortunately, I could not mandate what Snape did under Franzetti's payroll. How the hell did you think he got a place like this?"

_I figured that 'workaholic' excuse was a bunch of bull, _Hermione thought sourly as she looked around at her surroundings. It was a shame. Snape's was such a beautiful place, especially with that view.

"Well, since Snape assassinated Dolohov, though I didn't find the way he did it very amusing, and took care of Franzetti and his goons, his job is technically finished. Unfortunately…"

"He's dead," Hermione said darkly, "He's dead because he knew something, and Washington had a personal vendetta."

The Minister in the chair made a soft noise, like a hum, "Yes, Jenatep did his best in explaining how Severus could be dead and leave no body."

The cloaked man had got up from his chair and some point, and began keenly browsing Snape's collection of books, his gaze level with _The Divine Comedy_. Hermione's brow furrowed. She figured that being a mystic, Jenatep had a license to be a little strange, but he was acting a little…stranger than usual.

Hearing someone clear his throat, Hermione glanced back to Whitetail who was reaching into the box. He pulled out a small Penseive.

"This will explain everything…" Whitetail's voice dropped low and his eyes searched hers. "I found this among a box of things in your hotel. If you want to know certain things about Severus Snape, this is where you will see it."

"Harry Potter told me all about what happened. Snape shared his memories with him before he died…the first time," even as Hermione said those things she could not tear her eyes from the basin. She could hear a chuckle from Jenatep.

"Woman, there are memories Snape would not want Harry Potter to see."

Whitetail set the basin on the coffee table and nodded, "Please take the time to view this. Meanwhile, I have a meeting with the President."

"President as in...the actual President of the United States?"

Whitetail nodded.

"Come, my friend," Whitetail's voice rose to Jenatep and the Native stood tapping the mystic on the shoulder, "Let's get you some coffee and pretzels."

She watched patiently as the grey-maned man escorted the mystic out of Snape's apartment. Her hands were sweaty and she peered down at Rufus. The poor pup was lying on his stomach, resting his head on his paws, a sad look in his puppy-dog eyes. He wasn't the only depressed one.

Hermione's eyes fell on the small Pensieve on the table. Was it worth a look?

Maybe getting a look can explain something. Throwing caution to the wind, she dove right in.

* * *

_The first memories that overcame her were fleeting images driving too fast for her to make heads or tails of the matter. She saw Snape on a sterile slab, leather straps around his wrists and ankles, scientists and doctors poking and prodding his shaking form inserting various needles in him._

_Then there was fire._

_Next was him sitting in the dark on a chair, his shirtless body tight with muscles that she didn't know he should have had._

_There were bodies on the floor blood everywhere, and wizards and witches circling him, wands pointed at him._

_Now she was flying through the streets of some village following Snape's almost inhuman bounds and speed. He leapt easily over barriers, dodging by-standers, his dark colored jacket flying behind him._

_Behind him, yelling at him to stop, were two people, running after him. One was a wizard with brown and grey streaked hair, long sideburns and a thin face not far behind was…_

_One Lily Potter._

_It was only a guess really, but she had a gut feeling._

"_Out of the bleeding way!" the man yelled at the bystanders. "Stop! By the Order of the Phoenix!"_

_Severus didn't stop. Instead he scrambled onto the ledge of a building and began climbing to the top._

_The man stumbled to a stop, catching his breath, "Son of a bitch, he's fast."_

"_Keith!" Lily skidded to a halt behind the older man, "Are you alright?"_

"_I'm fine," the man breathed, "Stay here and keep an eye on the ground. I'll give chase."_

_Before Lily could say anything, and it certainly looked like she wanted to, Keith regained his wits and sprinted inside the building. Hermione had a distinct feeling that Keith would not catch Snape._

_The memory blurred and Snape was on top of the roof of a tall building still trying to elude the Order of the Phoenix. He jumped across one roof to the other and sprinted to the edge only to find that the leap was too far and the building across was too high._

_He looked back, almost as if he were considering another route but Keith appeared from the door that lead to the roof his wand pointed at Severus._

"_Freeze! Don't move!"_

_Snape glanced back to the impossible leap._

"_DON'T even think about it!" Keith yelled his wand at the ready, arm stiff as he inched forward. "We both know that jump is impossible for anyone, Muggle or wizard, to make. Now just keep your hands up and come towards me slowly."_

_Snape's face was frozen and emotionless and took one step forward._

_Then he juked back and jumped from the ledge. Keith yelled "No! No!" and ran forward. But Snape's leap was high and far and grabbed a ledge of the windowsill of the building across._

_The look on Keith's face was one of amazement, even as Snape expertly climbed the side of the building, grabbing onto loose bricks and ledges, until he reached to the very top._

_Again the memory mulled and she found Severus in an old musty room lounging the moldy armchair, his white undershirt dirty and stained. He wasn't totally conscious, his eyes threatening to roll back in his head. She quickly found out why._

_A tourniquet was wrapped tightly around his bicep, his inner elbow purple and blue. He was trying to submit to the liquid ecstasy, desperately, in a perfect interpretation of a crack house. It must've been a room in a slum apartment, oddly quiet._

_Just then the door burst open and in came Keith and Sirius, wands pointing at Snape. For once Severus seemed startled and couldn't gather himself in time before Keith dragged Snape from his chair, pulling his arms behind his back._

"_Is this about the Phisher incident?" Snape growled allowing Keith to bind his arms back._

_Keith plucked a small bottle of maroon colored liquid and sneered, "Personally, I don't give a shit about that whole thing. You are a threat to national security and THIS is an illegal substance, you know. And I really hated chasing you across Europe."_

_Sirus still had his wand at Snape's throat, the blue-eyed man's confident aura gone as he stared at Snape like he was a ticking bomb. Keith pushed Snape towards the door._

_The visions didn't stop there._

_She next found herself in what looked to be an empty administrative building, blackboards with dozens of notes and newspaper clippings from the Daily Prophet on Death Eaters lining the walls. The room was dark except for a lone light coming from one end of the room. She drew closer and found that it was a cell, a glass barrier dividing the cell from the rest of the room. Severus, looking disheveled beyond belief, sat against the wall, shoulders hunched, head down. His body was shaking and his lips were moving but no sound was coming out. Hermione could see the definition of his muscles contract and seem to strain against his skin. Something was wrong._

_She heard the door of the room open and two men start arguing. Keith was seething in frustration and close behind him was James Potter._

"_Durandal! Won't you just hear me out!"_

_Keith Durandal spun around violently, "And have you tell me what? What you and Black did is a breech of conduct and if it were up to me your asses would be out of the Order!"_

"_Calm down!"_

"_Calm down! Who the hell do you think you are? Your childhood bullying has gone too far. Grow up!" Durandal looked like a father scolding his child, his frustration evident in the vein pulsing in the middle of his forehead._

_James Potter looked dejected and guilty, running his hand through his messy dark hair. It seemed Potter couldn't bear looking at the prisoner._

_Durandal's voice lowered to a quavering dangerous tone, "Death Eaters are wreaking havoc, Potter. Voldemort is still out there and he won't stop. So WHY the hell am I chasing the likes of Snape when you were the ones who sold him to Phisher for fifty galleons!"_

"_Believe me if I knew what the hell they were going to do with him I would never have done it!"_

"_That's besides the point, Potter!" Durandal shouted so forcefully, spittle started spraying. "What you and Sirius did was severely immoral. So much so that I honestly didn't believe when I found out. Fifty galleons for the life of a man. What is this? The Roman slave trade!"_

_Durandal drew closer his jaw set tight._

"_What would Lily think?"_

_James swallowed visibly and Durandal folded his arms, "Tell me, what did you do with your share?"_

_James wouldn't answer and he just adjusted his glasses._

_Suddenly, Durandal grabbed James by the collar and pinned him to the glass of the cell, pressing his face against the glass._

"_Was it worth it Potter! Was it worth creating another threat for Wizarding security!"_

_Before anything more was said Snape was at the glass in front of them and gave a roar, smashing his palm against the glass, causing the surface to crack. Immediately, the two Order members jumped back. James' face grew particularly sweaty and both stared on in horror._

_Snape was pacing, baring his teeth and snarling, muscles tight._

"_What-?" James started but Durandal spoke, not tearing his eyes away from Snape._

"_We have to get out of here and find Dumbledore."_

"_I still don't understand."_

_Durandal violently turned his head towards Potter, and pointed to the cell, "THAT is Unbreakable Glass! Not even the strongest of magic is supposed to even crack it let alone a human."_

_Immediately, James sprinted out of the room for help while Durandal stared back at the prisoner with a calculated concerned expression, as if he were staring into the eyes of something…inhuman._

_The memory faded and now Snape was in a smaller room, sitting at a flimsy steel table. He was dressed the same, with a dirty undershirt, and shackles on his wrists attached to the chair he was sitting in. He didn't seem to be in distress. In fact, he didn't seem to have any sort of emotion._

_It was downright scary._

_The door opened and Lily Potter entered quietly. She closed the door and turned, staring at her childhood friend with an incredulous look on her face. She tried to put on a mask of unconcern but failed. Hermione could see the mild heartache in her eyes as she gazed upon Snape._

_Snape shifted slightly, and his face, before a blank mask, now softened slightly. His hands that were resting on the table curled into tight fists and his powerful jaw muscle quivered._

_Lily didn't sit down. She was afraid to, but there was so many things she had wanted to say. If Hermione were her she would probably express her profound disappointment._

"_Do you remember me?" she asked softly as if she were talking to a runaway dog._

_Snape raised his eyes, a yellow gleam tinting the otherwise dark eyes. He breathed out through his overlarge nose, nostrils flaring. He was bitter and angry, and not completely himself. No doubt seeing the one woman who held his heart for the first time in years was not a good idea for the currently unstable man._

"_You must…" she replied in almost a whisper, "You were the one who told me what I could become. Gods it's been so long…"_

_As much as Hermione wanted Snape to say something, he didn't. He just stared at her with penetrating eyes. Lily inhaled sharply, unnerved by his gaze. She jumped when there was a knock on the door._

_She gave one look back at Snape, hand on the knob, "I really wished we could've met on different circumstances today, Sev."_

_She turned the nob, but a low voice stopped her._

"_Ask him."_

_Lily turned, "What?"_

"_Your husband," Snape replied with indignation, "Ask him how I got here. Ask him why I am in this situation. Ask him about Phisher Enterprises. Ask his and Black's involvement. Ask him."_

_Before Lily could reply, the knock came again more incessantly this time. She hurriedly opened the door and on the other side was Durandal and Dumbledore. Both men seemed surprised to see Lily in the room._

"_Lily, I thought we put you off his case," Durandal whispered, but apparently Snape could hear them clearly._

"_I know…"_

_Durandal, who seemed less of a hard ass than Hermione had seen in previous memories, spoke softly and gently, like he was trying to understand Lily's situation, "I knew you'd get too involved. Sirius warned me as such."_

"_It's alright," Dumbledore smiled, eyes twinkling, "She has common sense enough not to let it affect her work."_

_Durandal sighed and led Lily out the room by gently touching her shoulder. Dumbledore slipped in and with his hand on the doorknob, Durandal snidely quipped, "He's all yours, Professor."_

_He closed the door, leaving Dumbledore alone with Snape._

_There was a stare down. Much like the ones Hermione had seen in Western films and crime shows. Dumbledore could be quite intimidating, but not intimidating enough. The wizened man took a seat across from Severus, his cold mask fixated on the young man across from him._

_For a while they remained staring, Dumbledore wanting to get Snape to cringe._

_Finally, with a sigh Dumbledore's hardened face fell away and softened._

"_Well, here we are. I must say I'm surprised at you."_

_Severus' jaw muscle quivered but he didn't blink._

"_You were a brilliant student and had a tremendous amount of potential. That is why I, personally, am concerned."_

_Dumbledore's tone didn't sit well with Hermione. She had a distinct feeling that he was trying to manipulate the situation._

"_You're afraid," Snape rumbled low._

_Dumbledore peered over his spectacles, "You think so?"_

"_They are," Severus' eyes traveled to the closed door._

"_Can you blame them?"_

_Dumbledore's eyes traveled to the shackles around Snape's wrists. The younger man's forearms muscles quivered as he clenched his hands again. There was something powerful about those muscles even if they weren't the biggest, much like the ones Hermione had seen him with recently._

"_Why do I get the feeling that you can break out of those shackles at any moment?"_

_Shifting his shoulders, the chains rustling, Severus broke eye contact. As per his usual habit, Dumbledore began stroking his long beard, leaning back into his chair and Hermione felt that Severus had the distinct urge to grab the wizened wizard's beard and smash his skull into the table._

"_Maybe they have a reason to keep an eye on you."_

"_What, because I'm a Slytherin and read about the Dark Arts I must be Death Eater and because most of them are Gryffindors they must have hearts of gold," Severus turned out his forearms revealing them blank. No blemishes, no tattoos, no marks, just pale skin. "It just goes to show how wrong those stereotypes can be. I also read Marx. Does that automatically make me a Communist?"_

_The quiver of Dumbledore's mustache revealed the he found mild humor in that last statement._

"_Severus, you had drugs in your system…"_

"_That's what they got me for, not why the Order really wants me here. I'm a matter for national security they say."_

"_Yes, well, you must understand. The scientists and physicists at Phisher were maimed and burned-"_

"_By their own creations," Severus interrupted, gold tinged eyes flashing as his face contorted briefly something vaguely inhuman._

"_They did not deserve that type of brutality."_

_Oh no. Not the right thing to say. Hermione wasn't precisely sure what was with this Phisher company did with Snape but it was obvious from previous memories that it was more than a few pokes and prods and tests. Surely Dumbledore knew that and whatever they did to poor Snape was not something to just sniff at. _

"_Severus, just listen," Dumbledore said calmly, trying to divert the conversation before he set Severus off. "Whatever happened, happened. And they will be punished, but you need to help yourself by ridding yourself of these liquid addictions. I will be more than happy to help you."_

_Suddenly, a voice that seemed to come from within Hermione's own head hissed. A faint seething hiss._

He lies…

_She could see that Dumbledore wasn't fazed, but Severus' eyelids fluttered ever so slightly. Could Dumbledore not hear it? She was in Snape's memory so if Dumbledore couldn't hear it but he could then it must've been coming from his own head. Chills ran down her spine, and she felt a pressure in the air._

"_You don't understand," Snape said quietly. "I can't go back. They've ruined me."_

_Dumbledore didn't quite understand his former student, but still stared at him._

"_I do the drugs because nowadays it's the only thing to get me through the day. I cannot sleep without them. I cannot eat without them. You do not understand what Phisher did to me."_

_Dumbledore remained quiet, watching as Severus nervously ran a hand through his hair. Pity was written all over the old man's face. Hermione even felt a tug as well. It wasn't easy seeing this normally collected man begin writhing in his seat, anxiety written across his face._

_Dumbledore sighed, "Then I wont send you back, but you must be taken into custody by the Aurory, for your own safety. Apparently my Unbreakable Glass cell is useless against you."_

_The bearded man rose from his seat and made for the door. He was done with the conversation and mostly, Hermione could tell, he was disappointed in Severus. But as Dumbledore touched the handle, Snape called him back._

"_Can I ask you something?"_

_Dumbledore immediately turned his head, "What is it?"_

_Severus wasn't looking his Professor in the eye and he paused. He then spoke lowly, "Parseltongue is not an ability that everyone has, correct?"_

"_Yes…"_

"_What about understanding other animals? Is there such a thing?"_

_Dumbledore's nostrils flared, "Which ones?"_

_Severus looked up at Dumbledore, his eyelids fluttering again._

"_All of them."_

_The look on Dumbledore's face was not one Hermione was going to forget. Dumbledore had a look of shock and incredulity as if he were staring at Merlin's ghost. Not only that, she could see fear._

_The old man's hand dropped from the knob._

"_They kept all the animals they used for tests in cages. I could hear them all, screaming for help. Wanting to be let out. A lot of them just wanted more space to run and stretch. To eat what and when they want to eat. The hate they had for those humans…"_

"_Severus…" Dumbledore continued to give Snape his calculating stare, "What…happened at Phisher Enterprises?"_

_Whatever happened, Hermione never found out as the memory melted away. Severus, still in a dirtier version of that same undershirt, was surrounded by Aurors, standing over the edge of a cliff at Loch Ness. His hands were bound and unarmed._

_A man, Hermione recognized as Vincent Shrote went up behind him and grabbed the neck of the white undershirt, prepared to push him over the edge. Severus just stared out at the loch, wind blowing his dark locks gently over his face. His face was devoid of fear, anger, anything. As if he were accepting of his face._

_Shrote, a weasel faced bald man with aggressive features, whispered, "Any regrets, Snape?"_

_Severus didn't answer and just let his face be caressed by the Scottish wind._

_A crack echoed and the group of Aurors was surrounded._

_The Potters, Durandal, Sirius, and others surrounded the Aurors who held Severus captive, their wands at the ready._

_A man who greatly resembled Neville Longbottom stepped forward, "Shrote, let him go."  
The past version of the current head of the Aurory glared at all of them, "Stay out of this. This man is a threat to the community."_

_Durandal spoke next, his face extra sour, "How much is Simon Phisher paying you to get rid of him?"_

_Shrote's lips turned into a snarl, "I don't know what you are talking about. Now, stand back, the Order has no authority over the Aurory."_

_As the Aurors and the Order members were having their row, Snape's gaze followed a lone falcon that flew across the sky, over the roar of the loch._

_Shrote tightened his grip on Snape's collar, ready to give him one last shove._

_Quicker than lightning, Snape thrust his elbow back, smashing it square in Shrote's rodent like face._

_Wands went off as the Order took the opportunity to try to disarm the distracted Aurors._

_An Auror, however, was quick and focused pointed his wand at the unarmed Severus, "Stupify!"_

_Snape braced himself, muscles going tense, and instead of flying in the air, the shock of the curse seemed to be absorbed, but it caused him to stagger back a little too far and he stumbled over the edge._

_Hermione heard a woman yell his name as he managed to barely hang onto the ledge, fingers digging deep into the dirt. Lily placed a strong hex on the Auror standing between her and Snape and she hurriedly rushed to him flinging herself on the ground, grabbing Snape's arms._

"_Hold on," she grunted, trying to keep the man from sliding off and falling to what was sure to be his death. Much to Hermione's surprise, the red-haired woman had a look of desperation as she struggled._

_Snape raised his head staring her into those green eyes that would curse the rest of his life and growled, "Let me go."_

_Lily shook her head, eyes misting. Somewhere in the back, James was fending off rogue Aurors and called her name._

"_I can't," she whispered. "Just hang on Severus…"  
"You have to let go," he breathed._

_Then Severus gave a sad smile that could've broken anyone's heart, "It'll be alright."_

"_Lily!" James was rushing to them._

_Severus twisted an arm out of her grasp and smashed it against her wrist causing her to let go…_

_He fell and fell, and Hermione found herself falling after him, diving into the loch._

_If the fall didn't kill him, the impact should've. Loch Ness could have vicious waters, and Snape was suspended in the water, calm beneath the violent surface._

_If Hermione had not known what was going to happen to him, she would have assumed he was dead. He slowly began drifting into the weeds._

_A sharp call echoed throughout the water, soft and penetrating, like a whale's call, and a green fin emerged from the weeds and Severus' body gently landed on it, like it was a slimy mattress._

_A huge body soon emerged with the fin and a big, long necked, dinosaur-type creature, emerged fully from the weeds. A water horse._

_It curled its body in a circle, the fin cradling Severus' body, and it's long neck arched down as if to inspect the strange creature that landed harmlessly into the depths. It nibbled on the neck of Severus' shirt, before gently biting the collar. The water horse straightened it self, and carrying Severus by the scruff of his shirt, sped off in the water._

_Suddenly Hermione felt lighter as she found herself on the surface, shapes moving. Two dark cloaked men dragged Severus through the forest. He was still wet, as if he was just pulled from the loch. It was obvious that he was not completely conscious, eyes threatening to close._

"_I don't understand," one of the dark cloaked men groused. "Why don't we just kill him instead of having to go through all of this."_

"_Protocol Avery."_

_Avery, Knot. Death Eaters. This would not end well._

_The two Death Eaters pulled the wet and disheveled Snape into a clearing in the forest, and towards the circle of Death Eaters. What was worse, Voldemort was there giving one of his bigoted speeches about destruction and power. Old Voldy however, looked nothing like Hermione remembered. He looked vaguely human, with nose, dull black hair slicked back, and pale skin._

"…_we do not allow vengeance to poison our actions. Leave that softhearted manifestation for the self-righteous Order…_

_As they dragged him closer into the bowels of evil, a Death Eater had three demonic dogs on chains and they were barking and growling, red eyes glowing like mad and foam spitting from their teeth. Strangely, as they dragged Severus past those beasts, immediately, their ears went back and they shrank away, whining in fear. Avery and Knot dropped Snape on the ground interrupting the pep talk. Voldemort did not seem amused and he glared down at Severus, "Who the hell is this?"_

"_I knew him from Hogwarts," Avery grunted, scratching his belly, "We found his body by the loch."_

_Nagini slithered to Snape's body, tongue flicking out against his hand, investigating one of her many future victims._

_Then that hissing, growling voice pounded in Hermione's head, starting high pitched and then ending in a growl._

That serpent disgraces her kind…

"_We could use him for…entertainment," a Death Eater snarled with a grin. There were chuckles amongst the ranks and said Death Eater pulled out his wand and stepped forward._

_Voldemort thrust out his bony arm, "Wait, Rudolphous!"_

_The Dark wizard could command a room, indeed. Even the forest seemed to go silent. Voldemort stepped forward, slowly approaching Snape, eyes on him intently, as if he could see something no one else could._

_Severus lifted his head and dared to stare Voldemort right in the face._

Ooonnnghh…this one's evil…

_The voice began cackling._

_Voldemort bent down and cupped Snape's chin staring him directly into the eyes._

He can look all he wants…and he will only see his own fear…

_Voldemort stared into Snape's eyes, brow furrowed as if he were trying to crack a puzzle. It was an expression that one did not see on Voldemort's face very often. For once, Voldemort seemed…vulnerable. Perhaps it was Severus' hardened and steely expression, or just a vibe that there was something…dangerous inside._

"_There's something about this one…" Voldemort whispered._

"_My Lord…?"_

"_What is your name?"_

"_Severus Snape, my lord," Avery answered, but Voldemort turned his head towards the man, a horrendous scowl on his face, "I didn't ask you!"_

_Voldemort immediately stepped back, "Everyone clear space! Guffy! Gwalt! Take out your wands. I wish to see a duel."_

_Once everyone hesitated Voldemort shouted pointing at Severus, "Against him! Fight him you fools!"_

_With a flourish of his dark robes, Voldemort summoned Avery's wand and threw it in front of Snape, "Take that wand."_

_Guffy and Gwalt stepped forward wands drawn as Voldemort walked backwards fluidly wanting a good seat to see the action._

_When Snape didn't move Rebastan yelled, "Pick up the wand and fight!"_

_Severus staggered to his feet. He didn't seem to have his mind totally in his head but he grunted, "I don't need a wand."_

_A Death Eater chuckled, "Boy, does this kid have some balls."_

"_This is ridiculous," Rudolphous cried, obviously in Voldemort's comforts to protest his actions out loud. "This boy refuses a wand and can barely stand. Let's just take him out of existence."_

_Voldemort ignored the Lestrange and spoke smoothly, not taking his red eyes away from Severus, "You WILL pick up that wand." As the evil man hissed those words his wand hand twitched as if he were ready to Imperio Snape to do as he commanded._

_Jaw tightening, Snape swiped at the ground and snatched the wand, swaying a little on his feet as if he were drunk._

_Guffy pointed his wand and yelled, "Expelliarmus!"_

_The wand flew out of Snape's hand and landed harmlessly on the ground. The Death Eater's chuckled, but to Hermione's own surprise, Snape didn't look concerned. In fact, he looked bored._

Now…lets have some fun!

_Snape suddenly charged forward, dissipating in a stream of black smoke and appearing behind Guffy faster than lightning. He grabbed Guffy from behind, strong arm wrapped around his neck and the other hand grabbing his wand wrist._

_Gwalt raised his wand, but Snape lifted Guffy's arm and cast a particularly strong Stupify, causing Gwalt's bones to break on impact and his body was thrust back with such force that his skull exploded in a bloody mess as it hit a boulder._

_Severus then twisted Guffy's wrist, pointing the wand at its owner's neck._

"_Sectumsempra!"_

_The curse sliced half of Guffy's face clean off, blood spattering all over Snape's face and already stained and wet undershirt._

_Hermione never quite knew how to rank or evaluate a wizard's power. All she really knew was that Voldemort, Dumbledore, and Harry was among the strongest. However, watching Voldemort's calculating and surprised expression and what she could tell, Severus Snape could very well fall into the category as one of the strongest._

"_He killed Guffy!" Lestrange exclaimed more in shock than anger._

"_Gwalt's dead too," another Death Eater announced after he got a closer look at the dead Death Eater by the boulder._

_Rather than be perturbed by the loss of two of his loyal servants, Voldemort grinned as if he were just handed a prized stallion. The vile man cackled._

"_I would have preferred a longer show, but the mess you made was fun to watch."_

_Voldemort stepped over Guffy's corpse like it was nothing but a log._

"_I could use someone with talent. And you have extraordinary talent. Had a known about your skills I would have requested to see you sooner," as Voldemort finished he flicked a death glare at Avery. Probably for not informing Voldemort of a highly powerful wizard already among the Slytherin ranks._

"_I will ensure that your power is not put to waste. In fact…" Voldmort smirked and twirled his wand between his bony fingertips. "I believe I can make you even more powerful."_

_Snape didn't seem fazed by that idea. He neither looked like he was going to despise the prospect nor relish in it. It wasn't really at all obvious if he got every word Voldemort said._

"_What do you say that you join me and my Death Eaters?"_

_Snape paused as if he were waiting for a comment from the voice that penetrated his mind. The voice was strangely silent. Severus had to make the decision on his own. He glanced back at the Death Eaters surrounding him in a circle, many already looking for blood for their fallen comrades._

_He looked Voldemort in the eye, "I don't really have a choice, do I?"_

_The older man tilted his chin up, his grin not fading, "No, I suppose you don't but soon you will realize that this is the only correct choice."_

_With a violent flick of his wand, Voldemort pushed Severus to his knees. Before Snape could recover, Voldemort snatched his left forearm and pointed his wand at the inside._

"_Morsmordre!" Voldemort hissed, and the wand curled, transforming into a small white snake that coiled itself around Severus' wrist and wound up his forearm. The serpent sunk its two fangs into the skin and inky black venom seeped into the skin forming a shape—a skull with a snake winding out of its mouth, the eyeholes of the skull where the serpent's fangs bit down. Throughout the whole ordeal, Snape made no noise, but his face was contorted in pain and his arm was shaking._

_The snake returned to Voldemort's hand and solidified back into a wand._

"_There. You are mine now," Voldemort said coolly and turned his back on Severus._

Do not worry. You are no one's but _mine._

_Finally that sinister voice rang. Why wouldn't it say anything before? It didn't seem to have any bias towards Voldemort or anyone else, so there was no reason for it to endorse allying Snape with the snake of a man._

"_My Lord…"_

"_What is it, Lucius?"_

"_Tonight's raid? What is our target?"_

_Voldemort scratched his chin with his long bony fingers, "As of now, I don't care. Anything to ruffle Dumbledore's and the Minister's feathers. All of you get out!"_

_Cautiously, the Death Eaters stepped away and disapparated. Severus was about the follow suit. It was obvious that he wanted to leave this place._

"_Not yet, Severus."_

_Snape stopped, the strong muscle in his jaw clenching. He turned to face his new master._

"_Yes," he said with a pause before adding, "My Lord?"_

"_Better. I wish to speak to you alone."_

"_Is there something you need?" Snape asked watching Voldemort bend down next to Guffy's corpse, inspecting the violent damage done._

"_You don't hold back do you?"_

"_I tend to take things seriously when people are trying to kill me."_

_Voldemort cackled in laughter, "Sarcasm. I like it."_

_He stood pointing his wand downward at Guffy, facing Snape, "That spell you used on him. What was it?"_

"_It's a Slicing Hex, my Lord."_

_Voldemort's face contorted into one of mild confusion, "Slicing Hex? Never heard of it. And that must mean you invented it yourself. Is that right?"_

"_You'd be correct," Snape's eyes, now black, were fixated on his new master._

_Voldemort gave a toothy grin, "I knew I got a good one. Have you invented many new spells?"_

_Severus shrugged, "A few."_

_And you are quite proficient at wandless magic, too, I see."_

"_I'm working on it."_

"_You want to hear something interesting?"_

"_I guess…"_

_Again, Voldemort began twirling his wand between his fingers, "The only one to my knowledge, aside from myself, who is known to invent spells is old man Dumbledore."_

_Snape's face contorted into a snarl as he growled to himself, "Dumbledore…"_

"_You have a history with him?"_

"_Usually, he would want nothing to do with me. Yet, when I do something…noteworthy, he treats me like I'm…subhuman."_

_There was painful emotion in Snape's small whispered rant, something that pulled him out of the usual impassive façade. It wasn't just Dumbledore. It was the Order, Aurory, everybody. Did everyone treat him like a bomb ready to go off? Even Voldemort carried himself carefully around Severus._

_Voldemort slowly approached Snape and stood face-to-face with his new servant. Severus was taller than the Dark wizard by a few inches, but the way Voldemort carried himself he seemed more imposing even compared to Snape. Voldemort placed his hands on Severus' shoulders and spoke to him in a very…intimate tone._

"_He fears you, Severus. That is why he us treats so. But I have nothing to fear about you…"_

_The voice seemed thoroughly amused._

Why do humans lie? It serves no purpose. Can you smell his fear, Severus?

"_Joining me will give you tremendous opportunities to prove to the likes of Dumbledore that you are of tremendous worth to the future of wizardry."_

_The cautious face Snape had on smoothed, as if he heard something of note._

_The next moment Hermione was pulled into another memory, but this time the memory was different. She couldn't see Snape anywhere but it felt as if she was moving on her own, striding through a dark alleyway. She could hear breathing that was not her own. Then it occurred to her that she was viewing the memories via Snape's point-of-view._

_It was dark and rainy, and Snape was moving faster towards and opening at the end of the alleyway and into a street._

_She recognized this place as Godric's Hollow. Oh no._

_Scattered along the streets were Death Eaters. Tens of them. Probably to fend off anyone who tried to interrupt Voldemort's work._

_Snape seemed to be focused on one house in particular. He vision lowered to the Death Eaters on the street._

So much flesh…

_That voice growled and Hermione could feel its aggression. Snape was shuddering, his breathing labored._

_The Death Eaters nearest him turned, surprised to Severus there._

"_Snape…what are you doing here?"_

Learn that you are my puppet!

_To Hermione's horror, black serpentine creatures and tendrils appeared in view as if there coming from over Severus' shoulder. There eyes were glowing mad, angler fish-like jaws open, bearing white teeth._

_The Darkness._

_Before the Death Eater could make anything of it, thick tendrils shot out and wrapped around his legs, lifting them and hanging him high in the air by the legs, the tendrils twisted and pulled until…_

_Quite literally, the Death Eater was ripped in half. Long ways, the two halves had bloody gory ribs showing, like something you'd see at a butcher shop._

_Immediately, after a flurry of verbal curses, the Death Eaters began throwing hexes and curses at Severus. Severus, with the Darkness, didn't seem at all fazed by the curses. The most the Darkness did was flinch. Otherwise they were all doomed._

_As Snape charged forward his hand came into view holding his wand. He was throwing curses as well. With the Darkness in tow, Severus was quite an invincible force._

_A tendril wrapped around a second Death Eater's neck pulling him close. One of the serpentine creatures roared in the blubbering Death Eater's face before biting a chunk of it off. The Darkness threw the corpse against another Death Eater._

_The tendril extended outward, thick and black, sweeping a line of Death Eater's off their feet. Some of them literally. The tendril cut through the knees of one of them. The black tentacle retracted, picking up a wand as Severus rushed forward. A Death Eater got to his feet and the dark arm jammed the wand through the unfortunate soul's eye and out the back of his head._

_More Death Eaters appeared and Severus attacked them, their cries could be heard throughout the Hollow._

"_Snape! What the-"_

"_Oh god, no!"_

"_Sweet merciful, Mary, please, n-"_

_The Darkness dragged a Death Eater by the legs towards Severus, and as he cast curses at the other Death Eaters, the serpentine part of the Darkness began devouring the man, his cries and screams filling the air. Hermione was thankful that Severus did not look down, but blood spatter flew into her vision. One of the creatures lifted back into view, a heart held in its jaws, before it swallowed it whole._

_The tendril wrapped around a Death Eater that got too close, lifting him in the air. His screams came out as gargles as the end of the tendril burst through his stomach._

_The gore seemed never ending. Hermione knew the circumstances and it appeared, by all accounts, that Severus was on a rampage. One like no one had ever seen. Voldemort's pillar of support was crumbling in the matter of minutes. Had Voldemort come out of that house unscathed, he would find that his personal army was in shambles. Bloody, gory, shambles._

_Severus dispatched the last Death Eater on his own, by a well-placed slicing hex in the man's mouth._

_Suddenly, silence. He opened the door to hear a man's voice start yelling. Severus raced towards the staircase and a bang rang out throughout the house. He bounded up the stairs and raced through the halls, stepping over the body of James Potter, his head turned in a quick glance at his school age rival._

"_Leave him alone!" a female's voice shouted. And Snape rushed to where it was coming from._

_Suddenly the Darkness began flailing on it's own, knocking the wand out of Snape's hand. His vision quaked, as if his movements weren't of his control._

It's my turn for fun!

_The Darkness pulled him in front of a closed door, tendrils wrapping around his wrists and waist, holding him still. Hermione could tell that he was struggling to break free especially as a woman's desperate cries penetrated his hearing._

Stay still and listen!

_Severus was jerking violently, desperate to break free._

"_Don't! Please!" the woman cried before there was a bang. Severus's blood was pounding so much in his ears, that Hermione couldn't hear anything but muffled sounds and his heavy breathing. She could finally hear a muffled cry of a man._

_The tendrils finally relinquished its hold on Severus, and even opened the door. Severus stumbled through the doorway into the bedroom. Lily Potter was dead on the floor, her red hair splayed on the panels. Voldemort was nowhere to be found._

_Severus sank to his knees, hands ghosting over the body._

Aaaww…what did he do to Lily, _the Darkness said mockingly._

_Severus turned Lily's face. She looked cold, but still very pretty. His hands gently cupped her face, stroking the hair away._

She was a burden…this is freedom!

_Hermione could practically feel Snape's heart split in two. His vision shifted to the crib where baby Harry laid staring at him silent tears staining his chubby cheeks, blood dripping from a fresh cut in his forehead._

_His vision shifted to the wand lying by Lily's shoulder. He picked it up and turned back towards the door, walking into the bathroom across the hall._

_The Darkness drawled._

Where are you going?

_He entered the bathroom and the Darkness seemed to sense his intent._

No, Severus, it is not your time!

_Snape faced the mirror and Hermione could see his reflection, Darkness and all. He placed Lily Potter's wand underneath his chin, against his neck. The Darkness wrapped its tendrils around his wrists trying to pull the wand away, the slithering, hissing, creatures snapping._

NO! Cannot! Must not…!

_Hermione saw the subtle movement of his lips and there was a loud bang._

_She heard a familiar wizard's voice yell, "Severus!"_

_Her vision shot upwards and the last thing she saw was the ceiling before all went black._

_Hermione assumed he killed himself. It certainly looked and felt like it._

_Yet, if that were true, why did she see another memory?_

_It was raining and she could see Snape in the same jacket and clothing he had on in the previous memory. He certainly looked haggard, his hair longer, his stubble thick enough to be considered a beard. He looked shaken, like he just come from the depths of hell._

_He approached the front doors of Hogwarts, fist pounding on the large double doors. He stood back, and waited, arms wrapped around himself. He was shivering in the rain. He pounded again._

"_Please open up! Headmaster!"_

_Suddenly, the doors creaked open. Severus staggered into the main foyer. McGonagall was there in fuzzy slippers, and a crimson robe, which she held tightly to herself._

"_Merlin's hat, Severus! What are you—how did you—what's going on?"_

_Severus fell to his knees, collapsing on the stone floor._

"_Please…Professor. I must…I must speak to the Headmaster."_

_McGonagall looked shocked to see him, like she was seeing a ghost._

"_Severus! I don't—maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing first."_

_Breathing through chattering teeth, Severus got to his feet, "No, please. I must see the Headmaster."_

_McGonagall hurriedly beckoned him to her, "Fine, fine, we will get the Headmaster."_

_Severus staggered to her side and she placed a gentle hand on his back lead him up to the Headmaster's quarters._

_The next thing Hermione knew she was in the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore began lighting the candles. He looked sleepy but most of all stunned._

"_My god…Severus…you're alive."_

_The younger man didn't respond to that. He seemed like he didn't know what to believe._

"_I saw you, boy. I saw you blow out your…" Dumbledore stopped before he could relay a graphic image. "How did you get here? You know Hogwarts is protected."_

"_I don't know. I found myself in the Forbidden Forest. I can't remember how I got there."_

"_I see. I see," Dumbledore began stroking his beard, his eyes still wide in shock. "Please sit. Can I get you anything? Tea? Lemon drop? Medical attention?"_

_Severus sat down in the chair opposite the Headmaster's desk and he began rocking impatiently. Dumbledore eyed Snape nervously._

"_What is it Severus?"_

"_I think—I think the Dark Lord is going after Lily Potter. I came as soon as I could make heads or tails of things."_

_Dumbledore was silent, his wrinkly brow deepened as he took in Severus' state. He was struggling how to tell him._

"_Wait…you don't remember?"_

_Severus eyed him curiously, "Remember what? I don't even know why or how I am alive."_

"_Severus…" Dumbledore folded his hands on the desk sounding much like a doctor to a cancerous patient. "Voldemort already went after the Potters…"_

_The haggard man suddenly stilled, his face unmoving as he listened to Dumbledore' news._

"_Lily and James Potter were both killed…"_

_Snape's face contorted to one of silent anguish as the news seeped in._

"_Voldemort was destroyed in the process…and…you were there Severus. After you did what I assume is the result of a whole lot of anger towards the Death Eaters around the house. You killed yourself. At least that was what I saw."_

"_I was…there…and she…" Severus began shaking his head in futile denial, running his hand through his hair._

_He made a__** terrible sound, like a wounded animal. **__Snape slumped forward in the chair and Dumbledore stood over him, looking grim and regretful._

"_**I thought…you were going…to keep her…safe…"**_

"_**She and James put their faith in the wrong person," said Dumbledore. "Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"**_

_Severus' breathing became shallow, like he was threatening to let out another roar of anguish._

"_**Her boy survives," said Dumbledore.**_

_**With a tiny jerk of the head, Snape seemed to flick off an irksome fly.**_

"_**Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?"**_

"_**DON'T!" bellowed Snape. "Gone…dead…"**_

"_**Is this remorse, Severus?"**_

"_**I wish…I wish **_**I **_**were dead…"**_

"_**And what use would that be to anyone?"**__ Dumbledore was obviously still shaken and perturbed by the knowledge that Severus may very well repeat his suicidal actions. The poor young man had been through too much._

"_**If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."**_

_Snape shook his head still reeling from the aftershocks of the news and somehow surviving a suicide attempt. Contemplating on what to do was the last thing he wanted to do._

"_**What—what do you mean?"**_

"_**You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son."**_

"_**He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—"**_

"_**The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does."**_

_Dumbledore watched as Severus's wretched anguish dissolved and he assuredly stared up into Dumbledore's eyes. His eyes glinted a shade of glowing gold one last time, before returning to the normal fathomless black. His face hardened as he mastered himself once more._

"_**Very well. Very well. But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear…especially Potter's son…I want your word!"**_

"_**My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?"**_

_When Snape's face didn't falter, Dumbledore sighed, "__**If you insist…"**_

"_My affliction…my curse…I had seen it when you sent me back in time…"_

_Dumbledore cocked his head, curiosity getting the best of him, "Severus…what happened? Where have you been since you…?"_

_Jaw muscle clenching, Snape answered, "A place no living mortal should speak of."_

"_And I drove you there," Dumbledore's usual demeanor was shadowed by guilt. "Like Tom…"_

_Snape shot right out of his chair, "Don't hide in self-pity, Dumbledore! I cannot follow a man who fears and pities me! Not again…"_

"_Understand, Severus. I am allowed to look back on my own mistakes. Like you are. I didn't treat you like I should've. I saw the same potential and greatness in you like I saw in Tom and I panicked. I did not want another one of my pupils to fall into the same pattern of senseless destruction. I should've listened to you when you had problems. I should have found ways use your talents constructively. For gods sake, I should have helped you and others like you."_

_Snape wet his lips and crossed his arms over his chest, "It doesn't matter, Headmaster. Somehow, I feel that things would have ended up the same. Phisher would have found me and experimented on me anyway. Their whole labs would have been in the same disaster and you would be forced to chase me. None of it matters now."_

_Dumbledore managed a wry smile under his beard, peering at Severus over his spectacles as his hand dipped into a bowl of candies, "No, I suppose not…"_

_The memory dissolved into another one in which Dumbledore and a clean-shaven Severus were having a conversation in the same office._

"_**And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?"**_

"_**You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help and old man avoid pain and humiliation."**_

"_Funny, I think Dr. Kevorkian thought the same thing…" Snape's sarcasm returned with disdain._

_Dumbledore just ignored his poor taste and continued, __**"I ask this one great favor of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year's league. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved—I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it."**_

_It didn't take long for Severus to consent, as if he assumed his soul was already forfeited._

"_**Thank you, Severus…"**_

"_But you must understand my fears, Albus."_

_Dumbledore's focus pulled away from his own death towards Severus' remorse over his already damaged soul._

"_You understand what might happen once I kill you…"_

"_I have an inkling," Dumbledore stroked his beard, "But I confess I don't understand."_

"_As soon I kill you…my affliction…the Darkness…the curse…will see that as an opportunity to take hold of me once again. And then…then no one will be safe. Not even Potter or his friends."_

_Dumbledore looked like he was refraining to laugh, "If we were only so fortunate to have that happen. You take out all the Death Eaters and make Harry's job easier."_

_Snape was angry, hurt that Dumbledore was taking this dangerous, vicious curse so lightly._

"_I would rather my soul—or what's left of it—be sent to ninth level among the likes of Judas than be ripped apart by that…thing."_

_Chuckling, Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles, "You've been reading _The Divine Comedy_ again, haven't you."_

"_A little bit…_

_Dumbledore murmured something like, "Typical intellectual…"_

"_I guess to prepare myself for the inevitable…"_

Hermione was pulled out violently and found herself on the floor, Rufus sniffing her hand, the Penseive still on the coffee table. Immediately her stomach churned and she rushed to the nearest bathroom and spilled her guts out. She was just so sickened by the violence and the gore. The Darkness. Severus had it. Why didn't he tell her? As she was finishing vomiting her mind drifted to the fact that she got more questions than answers. The memories were overly emotional, especially the memory of Lily Potter's and what the Darkness made Severus do.

Should she tell Harry? No, no she shouldn't. Not now. He would be devastated to find that his father and godfather sold Snape to some fishy scientific corporation. While Hermione was sure that Sirius and James did not know what could happen when they handed him over, the very act of collecting money as a finder's fee for a body was just…atrocious. She was surprised the Order had allowed such conduct.

The Order…

Kingsley. She had to write to Kingsley or Harry. No, not to tell them about Snape, but the unknown prophesy that he had mentioned. They would just freak.

Kingsley used to be the Minister of Magic, but retired after a few short years of service. All those years catching Death Eaters got the better of him, she figured. Now, he had to be somewhere like Bermuda or Puerto Rico, getting the most of his retirement. Was it really right to call him back?

Well, she was about to find out.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the long update. Sorry for the crappy story. I should be apologing for a bunch of things. I just got back from a tour of duty in Pakistan, so I'm excited that I will be able to see the movie now at home. The title comes from a song by the late great soul singer Nina Simone. Everything in bold comes directly from _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ by J.K Rowling. Please review. Be careful with flames though. I'm fully aware that this story sucks.


	19. Retun to England

Disclaimer: I don't own this...this ...and what not. I'm not making money.

Chapter 19: The Return to England

In a small rented room in London, a man in a scarlet hooded robe knelt in front of an array of candles and idols, his wooden staff lying beside him. He was quiet, thinking, meditating, evaluating about everything that has happened in the Americas. Despite drinking his fair share in front of the American Minister, he was still foremost a mystic. And boy were mystical things happening.

He suddenly stopped his silent meditation, and lifted his head, turning to look over his shoulder.

"On time as always, Zafina."

A beautiful woman wearing a white intricate skirt and thin top that bared her flat abdomen and arms, strode forward, smiling, her small-heeled sandals hitting the stone floor. Her black hair seemed to be made of ebony, and combed sternly back and tied into a loose bun.

"So you aren't going deaf," she shot back, smirking, her violet and eye-shadowed eyes sparkling. "I take it you found what you were looking for in the Americas?"

Jenatep's smirk faded and he turned his head back towards the altar.

"No?" Zafina sounded frustrated.

"That's why I asked you here."

"Still no."

"What do you know of the afterlife?"

"Gods, what happened now?"

"The Darkness got the best of me—and him," Jenatep responded remaining in his kneeling position.

"As it always does, what's your point?"

"We need to get him back," the man said scratching the pointed goatee on his chin.

"You didn't happen to hand him the Book of the Dead before he died, did you?" Zafina had not lost her venom since he last saw her.

"I'm serious, Zafina."

"I know. But considering we don't know how the Darkness works, your options are limited. There's a chance that the Darkness will spit him back out, but if you want a guarantee, there are loopholes…"

"And I will work to find one…unless you have one in mind."

Zafina placed her hands on her wonderful hips, glaring at the robed obscure man.

"I run around all of Europe and China and you ask me how to pull a man out of hell?"

"And I assume you got what I asked for?"

Zafina's silence said it all. So far, they had a bad track record. What a wonderful start.

"Jeez," the mystic grunted, his distaste still evident, even though it certainly seemed he already knew of her failure.

"Some of the British Ministry's Romulus division got to it first. Mikhail did the best he could…" Zafina explained.

"That lazy bum…he has so much intelligence and he wastes it snoozing on his boat as it drifts around Greece," said Jenatep annoyed but maintained his composure.

After a strong silence, Jenatep sighed through his nose, "It doesn't matter anyway. Everything will fall into place. The Aurors would not know what the hell to do with that thing. They are the last of my worries."

"And your prime concerns are…?"

They mystic just smirked under his hood, and with a gentle wave of his hand, the candles went out.

* * *

Technically, Hermione's mission was not finished. She was asked to get rid of the bothersome spirit at Mount Vernon and Washington was not gone. However, Minister Whitetail insisted she return home for some rest. What else could she do? The last few people to bother Washington were killed, and McDorren was keeping the mansion closed until further notice.

Hermione had no choice but to return home. But, the one thing that cheered her up was her new addition.

Severus' apartment was technically held by the Ministry now, but while his things were safely stored in the apartment, Rufus needed care. So, much to Crookshanks' dismay, she brought him home to her empty house.

Immediately, the dog took to sniffing anything and everything, even the old orange fur ball that hissed bitterly.

"Crooks, stop. You two are going to have to get along," Hermione scolded pouring a bowl of dog food. "You can still sleep with me, he's not taking your place."

Her old, faithful familiar just stared her at wide-eyed, as if to say, "I'm too old for this, you know."

Rolling her eyes at her Kneazle, Hermione quickly found some parchment and wrote to Kingsely. She was vague in her writing not wanting to reveal too much, especially on who told her about this ancient prophesy hidden in the Department of Mysteries, but Severus seemed desperate and urgent when he told her, before he was dragged into the abyss.

And for god's sake she kissed him. She forgot about that. Why the hell did she go and do that for?

Hermione quickly chalked it up to being traumatized. After all she just witnessed him endure a horrible death…for the second time.

Quickly pulling her focus back to her letter, she finished it abruptly, not sure on what else to tell Kingsley via a letter. There was always a risk of someone from the Ministry getting hold of it and getting them both into trouble.

After Kingsley's letter was finished she swept that aside and pulled out another parchment and wrote:

_My Darlings Rose and Hugo,_

_How are things going in school? I hope you both are well. I hope you are getting along with James and Albus and making more friends, especially you Hugo. I wanted to write to you both sooner, but I was gone on business to America. It wasn't a pleasant trip and, as much I should've gotten you both some souvenirs, the circumstances around my mission didn't give me that much opportunity._

_Maybe I could take you to Washington D.C. sometime._

_I miss you both and I desperately want to see you._

_But I shouldn't be so selfish and let you continue with your studies, but I cannot wait for the Christmas holidays, I have a present for you and I hope you like it._

_Be good,_

_Love,_

_Mum._

As she put down her quill, she glanced down at Rufus. The small dog was staring up at her expectantly, as if he knew she was depressed.

Tears in her eyes, Hermione reached over and scratched Crookshanks behind the ears and petted Rufus on the nose.

"Well, you both are my family now."

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron was strangely quiet midmorning. That made her a little nervous. Her paranoia about having someone overhear her conversations seemed to increase tenfold since her trip to America. Hermione relaxed, however, when she saw that charming smiling face of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Hermione," he baritone voice called, "Good to see you."

"You too Kingsley."

Kingsley motioned for her to have a seat across from him, "Can I get you anything?"

"A pumpkin juice if you have it. I want to be sober when I get back to work."

Her companion barked with booming laughter, "Alright. I got your letter Hermione. Care to enlighten me on why you want me to use power I don't have and get this so called prophesy from the Department of Mysteries."

"To be honest, I'm not sure…"

Kingsley's shiny brow wrinkled, "What…?"

"Maybe I can get a better idea if you answer a few questions."

For Shacklebolt, the tables suddenly turned. He thought he would be the one asking the questions. He eyed the witch warily. She seemed unsure of herself; not a good sign for the brightest witch of her age.

"What sort of questions?"

"What can you tell me about Keith Durandal and Phisher Enterprises?"

Kingsley settled back in his chair. He wasn't expecting that either. He hadn't heard that name in years and he wondered how Hermione knew about him.

"How…do you know about Durandal and Phisher?"

Wanting to be as vague as possible, Hermione didn't answer the question directly.

"I knew Durandal was a member of the first Order of the Phoenix. However, I have been unable to find any records of his involvement in the Order around the time of Voldemort's first defeat and he wasn't involved in the second Order. I have not seen any certificate of death or anything that would leave me to believe he is dead. And I ran across a company called Phisher while going through some records."

"Hermione," Shacklebolt groaned and ran a hand over his bald head, trying to decide on what to tell her. "What could be said here could dismantle the Order's reputation let alone the Ministry's."

Hermione could've laughed at that, "They've been doing a good job of that themselves since you left."

"I know, I know. I get letters begging me to come back, but I'm getting on in age. The battle with Voldemort took a lot out of me, Hermione."

Hermione already knew why Shacklebolt would want to keep what Durandal knew about the Order under wraps, but Phisher Enterprises was still a mystery.

"Durandal was an Order member in the early days. A strict law enforcement type and a very good investigator, that's why Moody sent him to us from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Of course, he was a quintessential Irishman. If he didn't like something that was done, you'd hear about it. He was Lily Potter's partner throughout his career."

Kingsley paused, watching Hermione's reaction. It was like he wasn't saying anything new to her.

"He quit. He didn't like some of the things going on with the Order or the Aurory, so he quit. He's somewhere in the Scottish countryside now. But the last time I saw him was shortly before Voldemort's first downfall, when he left. Haven't heard or seen him since."

Remembering the memories, Hermione recalled Durandal's chronic state of distaste. She couldn't blame him. He was fighting against an insane dark wizard only to have the "Light" be doing less than moral actions. It makes you question what is right and wrong.

"What about Phisher enterprises?"

"A scientific and medicinal company founded by Simon Phisher. I don't know much more than that. Their headquarters were destroyed long ago and the Ministry forced them to stop operations. I'll be honest though, Durandal will know more about them than I do, but Hermione why would you want to even go near this? It was a long time ago. There's nothing…"

Kingsley's eyes widened, "Is this about Snape?"

"You know about that?"

"Durandal spent most of his time on missions that usually involved chasing Snape somewhere or other. Snape had associations with Phisher."

Hermione did not want to tell Kingsley the circumstances of Severus' involvement with Phisher Enterprises. But this Keith Durandal was worth looking for. If he was around. He obviously knew more about Snape's past and Hermione's thirst for investigation has gone relatively unquenched for so long. Time to sneak into the Records and Registration Department.

Surprisingly, Hermione got into the Records and Registration Department fairly easily. She claimed (and lied) that she had to submit some of the Auror complaint files and snuck a glance at Keith Durandal's files. A lot of his stuff was classified and could not be revealed without a wand signature. It was strange though, to see that his material was classified, but it didn't matter much since she found a rough location of his whereabouts.

* * *

The Scottish air was rainy and windy and it was worse when Hermione arrived at a lone hilltop cottage that overlooked the mighty rough sea. The cottage looked ransacked and reminded her of the Shrieking Shack, boards were falling off and mold was growing on the boards. It was hard to believe that anyone lived here. Hermione ascended the rocky steps to the doorstep and she knocked on the door.

When there was no answer, she knocked again.

Hermione heard some rummaging on the other side. A tiny slot in the middle of the door slid open and two hazel-grey eyes peered at her from the darkness on the other side.

"What do you want?" came a growl.

"Mr. Durandal?" Hermione ducked her head so she could get a better view of the man inside the house, "I'm Hermione Granger, I'm from the Ministry—"

"Get back!" the man barked, eyes flashing as he heard the word 'Ministry', "What the hell does the Ministry want!"

"Sir, this is a misunderstanding. I'm not here on Ministry business. I need to ask you a few questions about Severus Snape."

The wide eyes widened even more. He sighed and slid the slot shut. There was jangling on the other side as Durandal disarmed and unlocked the heavy wards of the door. The door sung open.

Keith Durandal hadn't changed much from Snape's memories. He had a few more grey hairs and more lines and wrinkles. He had on a prickly grey stubble and his overall appearance was disheveled at best. From the memories, Durandal was an impressive figure, wearing clean-cut robes, and was well groomed. Now, the former Order member was wearing a dirty white shirt with plaid button-up short sleeves over it.

"Is this…strictly off the record?"

"Of course," she replied flatly. Still Durandal's eyes shifted around as if checking if there was anyone listening in.

Reluctantly, he jerked his head back, motioning for her to come inside, "Come on."

The inside of the house was cluttered much like Xenophilius' house. On the walls were articles, reports, and newspaper clippings of everything and anything involving cases and crimes. In his living room alone were two full desks of folders, files, whiskey bottles, and ashtrays.

As Hermione followed Durandal, the older man scratched the back of his head, grumbling, "Why would a lass like yourself be wanting to know about Severus Snape?"

"He's a hero, sir. Though not always. At some point he was on the Dark side."

Durandal sunk into a well-used and moldy armchair and motioned for Hermione to sit on the couch across from him.

"Yes, sure, but I don't know anything about those circumstances and to be honest I don't much care. There is no love lost between Snape and I."

"But you quit the Order because of what the Aurors and Order were doing to him."

Durandal's nose wrinkled in disgust. "It wasn't like it was my decision."

"Sorry?"

"I didn't like Snape. Never did. That kid was going to end up in prison one way or another. Illegally distributing prescription potions for money and abusing them himself. But to let him slip through the cracks and be used for…" Durandal broke off, biting his fingernails in spite, "Fifty fucking galleons…"

"He was sold to Phisher for that amount, correct?"

"By Harry Potter's father no less. It disgusted me. And the Order just shrugged it off. H-how did you know?"

Hermione took a deep breath. Of all people, she might as well tell him, "I saw Snape's memories. That's how I tracked you down. Sort of."

"I see…so you know about Phisher then."

"No actually. I spoke to Kingsley. He told me that you would know more about Phisher Enterprises."

"Yeah," Durandal chuckled sardonically. "I was investigating their fiasco and their activities. It was supposed to be a routine investigation, since the whole building crumbled."

"But what did they do exactly?"

Rubbing his temple, Durandal regarded Hermione with neutral countenance as if he were wondering if Hermione could be trusted.

"They were a medicinal and scientific company. They were _supposed_ to be researching for a cure for Lycanthrophy among other things. And who's gonna say no to that?"

_Well, that explains Sirius' and James' moment of immorality. They probably just wanted to help Lupin. It's still not right._

"Well, after their labs were destroyed I uncovered what they were really doing."

"What?"

"Experimentation," Durandal got up from his chair and pulled out a cardboard office box from underneath a desk. He blew off the dust and opened the lid rummaging inside, "On animals and one human. Apparently, doing the exact opposite of what they were saying."

"What? Making werewolves?"

"No…well, not really. Here's that damned thing," Durandal pulled out a file folder and removed the wards. He handed it to her. As she was about to take it he pulled it out of her grasp.

"I want your word that any of this doesn't reach outside our circle, lass."

Hermione nodded, "You have my word, sir."

That seemed to do the trick. He relinquished it. Inside were documents, reports and photos. Evidence from the investigation. The photos didn't show anyone moving. A few were photos of bodies, mangled and strewn on the floor, blood everywhere. Others showed bloody claw marks engraved in metal, charred remains of the building, broken cages, and not-so-harmless experimental contraptions.

"They were housing animals in those cages," Durandal explained. "Lions, tigers, hippogriffs, wolves, kelpies, you name it."

"In these cages?"

"Yeah, that's a violation of Magical Creature Protection Act 306. You can't keep a 400 pound animal in a four by four cage. Evidence showed that Snape was caged among them. Another gross violation of any sort of human rights."

Hermione once again flipped through the files and stopped at the records of Simon Phisher. In his picture he was standing next to a team of barristers, the left half of his face maimed and disfigured.

"Phisher was disfigured during the 'accident'. Whatever happened he tried to cover it up by sending his own team of specialists into blocked off and dangerous areas to solve the problem. In the end he had several dead employees and animals loose. Not to mention a loose unstable experiment."

"Well, what did do in his experimentation? What would make Severus a matter of national security?"

"Phisher wanted to make something close to a super soldier to combat the centaurs or other magical creature phenomenon. He claims to this day that the Ministry spent a part of its budget to have him experiment."

Durandal pulled the file from Hermione's hands, flipping through.

"They put animals in simulated stress, from what I can imagine were Crucios and extracted secretions from their adrenal glands and combined it with testosterone hormones from lions, werewolves, centaurs, and other creatures. They put that junk in Snape."

"That's gross a-and horrible."

"Right, lass," Durandal ran his hand through his thick locks. "I didn't think much of it until later, after I left the Order. I'm not absolutely sure how his body could withstand that much testosterone and foreign adrenaline. Surely his heart would've explode or give out. Either way, that much adrenaline makes for a primal man. That's for sure. No one could be sure if his mind wasn't broken during his time at Phisher, but I'd bet my teeth, after the way he left Phisher's men, he wasn't his old conniving self."

Durandal tossed the file onto the couch, "I never quit the Order, but it's not like I haven't thought of it. The Ministry didn't like that I was beginning to ask questions, so they sort of made me quit."

"Fired?"

"If a firing involved threats, then yes," Durandal replied. "They gave me earlier retirement and paid me to shut my mouth."

Hermione frowned. The Ministry sure knows no bounds. And she thought they had it bad today when it was not much better thirty-four years ago. Even when she was in school the Ministry was always causing problems for Harry. With Fudge outwardly criticizing both Harry and Dumbledore, he was hardly a greater Minister. Heck, he probably was the Minster of Magic during that time. Scrimgeour was a little better, but his intensity led to his downfall. Kingsley, quite frankly, was the best, if only stayed a little longer.

"So I didn't say anything. Not for the money, mind you, but because revealing Snape's story was not something I was willing to die for."

Even as he said that he turned away, rubbing the back of his neck as he sighed heavily, stronger than the gusts of violent wind outside. He didn't face her, not wanting the younger woman see his reddened cheeks.

"Forgive me. I've been waiting for over thirty years to tell someone," he said in a whisper. It then got quiet, even the wind seemed to stop.

"And now that I have," Durandal continued turning to face her, "I don't feel any better."

It certainly seemed that way. In the few minutes that Durandal told the story the man seemed to have aged. The bags from under his eyes seemed to get darker and lines seemed to grow deeper. It was like holding that secret in was what kept him going. As if he was motivated by the shear injustice of it all.

"But why would you, Miss Granger, want to know about the dirty hands involved with Severus Snape?"

Hermione stared at her hands for but a moment, unsure of what to say next.

"The man's dead, but I have reason to believe that there's something…about him…that's not ordinary."

Durandal snorted, "I'll say."

"He was indeed a powerful and intelligent wizard, such a waste of talent lost…during the war."

"I'll grant you that. No, he was not ordinary. I would know. I had to chase him all over the bleeding European Union, trying to explain to myself how he could run as fast as a gazelle could jump further than a jackalope. At first, I thought he was a werewolf, or on the onset of becoming one. But it wasn't until I really looked at the investigation when I ruled that out. Whatever the scientists wanted with Snape they were particularly intrigued with his resilience. He was the perfect test specimen to whatever they were doing. Whatever they put in him proved to an effective steroid. I first really realized his...power... when Albus Dumbledore interrogated him once. The old man came out of the room unmistakably disturbed and terrified. Never had I seen him in such a way."

"Was it his magical prowess?"

"His magical prowess wasn't something that concerned me back then. They disposed of his wand, so somehow he was sprinting across the British Isles with no wand. I guess that explains why he only ran and not fight back…at least with magic."

"That aside, the Ministry is acting weird. I feel that something…unscrupulous is going on."

"That Conway combined with the greedy Shrote makes an evil incarnate. The fact that they are in power is what makes it worse."

"Indeed. I think they are hiding something big. Huge. What, I can't explain. Obviously in my inquiries I found Snape connected with past Ministry and Auror transgressions," Hermione lied. Partially lied.

"I would imagine, lass," Durandal chuckled glancing back at his messy wall of newspaper articles. "You work for the Ministry, correct? And they still pull the wool over the eyes of its own employees. Shame."

"Indeed, Mr. Durandal," Hermione replied as she stood from her seat, satisfied with answers. "It was great talking to you. Thank you for divulging so much information. I promise that what was said here won't be repeated."

"It would be much appreciated. And you may call me Keith, if you'd like. It was good speaking to one of the great war heroes. I just wish it were more pleasant topics."

Hermione shook Keith Durandal's hand.

"Thank you so much, sir."

Durandal watched the woman leave his shabby cottage and Apparate away. He worked his jaw, thinking deeply. After Hermione disappeared, he retreated back to his cottage and pulled a musty scrap of parchment and scrawled a small message, swallowing his pride.

* * *

Karen was her usual self when Hermione returned the next day. Then again her usual self was a bit out of the ordinary. She found Karen sitting in a chair staring out her office door.

"YEAH! WORK THAT ASS!"

Hermione was immediately thrown a back, especially as Karen began shimmying her breasts to some unseen audience.

"Karen what are you-?"

Without taking her eyes off what was distracting her, Karen answered, "They are moving things into the office next door. They have a few of the squibs manually pulling in the desks. SHAKE THAT FINE THING!"

Karen began working her tongue in a sultry way and then a hunk of a man in a white shirt appeared at the doorway leaning on the frame, grinning, "You like what you see?"

"What?" Karen sounded appalled, "How offensive! Rude!"

She slammed the door in the man's face, flustered.

"Some people are so unprofessional…"

Hermione bit her tongue, otherwise speechless, not quite knowing what to say. Karen just eased into her desk.

Hermione inhaled trying not to let someone like Karen get to her.

But someone like Draco Malfoy could very well do the trick.

He entered her office, unannounced looking like he owned the very ground he stood on, with his rich navy blue robes.

"Granger," he said with stiff nod.

"Malfoy," she responded her heart pounding in her ears with mild fear, "I'm sorry I haven't had time to organize Se-Snape's things. I was away…"

Malfoy gave a grunt of disdain, crossing his arms over his chest, "I suppose it's alright…Though I expected more from you, Granger."

Hermione gave pause. She was unsure if she should take that as a compliment or not. Maybe Malfoy gave a slip of the tongue.

"Why is organizing Snape's stuff so urgent?"

"I guess it's out of gratitude for the man. I wouldn't want his personal items flying about, having people use them for less than scrupulous purposes. He was a very powerful wizard after all, even before his magical prime."

"I understand that," Hermione ignored the tug in her heart. Maybe she could tell Malfoy. He would understand. But what good would that do? Snape was dead anyway and he would not believe her if she said she had seen him only he was killed again.

She groaned inwardly and the silence was deafening, so much so that Karen shouted, "One of you get out already! Or at least say something! This isn't an indie film."

Malfoy's pale eyes widened, stunned, and a little confused. He turned to Hermione as if begging for an explanation. Giggling, Hermione shrugged.

"'ello everyone…" Harry greeted but he paused when he saw Malfoy. "Aww, Malfoy you didn't eat anything from Karen's purse again, did you?"

As Draco rolled his eyes but was not threatening towards the hero, Harry Potter, in any way, "Potter…shouldn't you be necking your page?"

"Alright! Alright!" Hermione interrupted the two before a duel would happen in her office. "Harry…what's the matter?"

"I got a letter from Kingsley. He said for everyone to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron after work. Do you have any idea what this is about?"

Hermione feigned ignorance and shrugged. It certainly sounded like an emergency though.

Malfoy slipped away with just a glance, his business with Hermione done and Harry, with a shrug, turned back to his friend.

"So how was America, Hermione? You didn't let me know you returned."

"Sorry, Harry," for the first time since Hermione arrived back at her office she sat down at her desk, groaning as her bum hit the chair. "It was a tough mission."

"You're not giving me details?"

"No, Harry," she said sounding like Harry just asked for the answers for the Potions exam. "The most I can tell is that I had to go to America and get rid of a dark spirit at the request of the American Ministry."

"Fair enough…"

Hermione sat, waiting for Harry to leave, but he kept staring at her wide-eyed, green orbs glinting. He must be excited about Kingsley, like he knew he was going to go on an adventure again.

"Harry…"

"Right, sorry. I'd better get back to work and Karen…" Harry turned to Hermione's assistant, "Kingsley Shacklebolt is a dear friend of mine and it would mean so much for you to come and meet him."

Karen smiled, "Oh how sweet. No."

Harry didn't seem at all disappointed and he just clapped his hands together, murmuring as he left Hermione's office, "Works like a charm."

* * *

After Hermione clocked out at work, she headed straight to the Leaky Cauldron. Knowing Harry would be there made her feel more at ease. Kingsley was a kind man, but having one of her peers with her just made the trip better. She couldn't but wonder what Kingsley wanted. She certainly hoped that he had found a way to get this mysterious and ancient prophesy.

She opened the doors to the tavern and immediately Tom pointed his gnarled finger to the back rooms. With a nod to the old barkeep, Hermione headed towards the door to the back rooms.

She was stunned when she opened the door. Kingsley and Harry were there, but so were Malfoy, Durandal, Ginny, and Jenatep. They all glanced up at Hermione, as if she was taking on a spot light. Durandal waved his hand, indicating for her to close the door. Hermione did so and silenced and warded it.

"Good lass," Keith said, impressed with her cautious forethought.

Kingsley immediately stood from his seat and approached her following her and whispering to her as she moved to an empty chair, "Jenatep and Durandal both owled me at the same time. When a mystic and an old Order member both owl you, something's up."

"What is Malfoy doing here?" she whispered back eyeing the blonde man.

"He hasn't been trouble. I asked him to come."

Hermione nodded and Kingsley turned to Jenatep who was sitting across by the wall of the room next to a door that led to staircase for the overnight rooms.

"Thank you, Kingsley," the hooded man nodded coolly, "I must stress that everything said here is not to leave this room. Now I bet you all are wondering why you have been called here."

There were nods and murmurs.

"It has been called to my attention that there is a prophecy within the Department of Mysteries that the Ministry has placed it's paws upon. Now this prophecy, I believe, is important and way too powerful for your less than moral Ministry to have."

"And you want us to retrieve it," Harry finished.

"Yes, yes, of course, but it won't be easy."

"We'll have to cut some corners," Kingsley said.

Harry shrugged, "I could go try to get it. I mean sure they'll be suspicious, but being Harry Potter will have it's perks."

Kingsley shook his head, "I'm sorry Harry, but the Ministry won't let you anywhere near the Department of Mysteries. That's why I asked Draco to come."

Malfoy jerked in seat, eyes widening at his name being called, "What? Me?"

"Yes…you."

"Due to the fact that I am a former Death Eater, I'm sure they wouldn't let me any closer to that Department than Potter."

"On the contrary, Malfoy," Kingsley chuckled. "You are a pureblood and your father, before his arrest many, many, years ago hid items that belong to your family in that Department so that no one willy nilly could take and pawn your family fortune. Therefore, Mr. Malfoy, you have a right to enter the Department to retrieve them. As you go and 'retrieve' your fortune, Harry will slip by and find the prophecy and leave."

"All the while defy the Ministry," Durandal murmured into the hand that propped his chin up.

"Oh?" Kingsley stared back at the washed-up Order member, "And since when were you so concerned with sticking it to corruption?"

Durandal downed his ale and sloppily wiped his mouth, "Corruption of power is the greatest of all evils. Not downgrade your accomplishments Mr. Potter, but I'd rather face You-Know-Who head on than live within corruption."

"So you should have no complaints then."

Durandal frowned, "I suppose not, but you'll excuse my skepticism."

"What does the prophecy look like?" Harry asked, "I mean I know they are all orbs and such but it would really narrow the risks if I knew what I was looking for."

Jenatep pulled a book from his robes and threw it on the table, flipping to a page and pointing resolutely.

"There are four pieces, of which it is divided. You must gather them all."

Harry glanced down at the page, leaning out of his seat. The picture was of four ceramic jars from ancient Egypt, the tops carved into heads: human, baboon, hawk, and jackal.

"Organ jars?" Ginny read quizzically, before glancing up at the mystic. Jenatep nodded, "During embalmment, the Egyptians placed the organs inside these jars for the deceased to be entombed with. The ones in the Department of Mysteries were hidden there after several English wizards found them when they went on archeological exhibitions for Gingrotts during the 1800s. And those don't contain organs."

"So I get these…jars," Harry said, not taking his eyes off the picture, "Then what?"

There was a dramatic pause and Hermione couldn't help but feel that Jenatep liked the dramatic element.

"We reveal it, of course," he responded matter-of-factly.

"You make it sound so simple," Hermione shook her head.

"That's not all I ask," Jenatep's tone dipped to a serious one. It was severe and intense, as if he were asking for someone's wand arm. "There is someone I need to be retrieved from the Darkness."

Everyone in the room except for Hermione was oblivious to what he was saying.

"There is a wizard caught between life and death…"

Hermione raised her eyes, too astonished to make a readable face. He couldn't mean…

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, dumfounded if not concerned.

Jenatep's bearded chin raised a little as he regarded the man.

"Mr. Potter, you of all people should know what it's like to cheat death multiple times. You are not the only one."

"You all knew this man," the mystic continued. "Two of you had seen his end…"

Hermione's heart could've stopped and Harry's mouth went slack, emerald eyes staring at Jenatep in a calculating, confounded stare.

"He crawled amongst the shadows to cripple the snake…"

Harry seemed terrified. Horrified. Speechless. A knot was in his throat and he knew he couldn't swallow.

"You…" he said breathlessly, "y-you can't mean…"

He paused, eyes glistening with tears of shock, "S-Snape?"

Jenatep clasped his hands in front of him, "He has defied death multiple times and upon his death by the serpent he never really died."

"He's joking," Harry gave a shifty bout of wry laughter.

"Am I?" To Hermione's horror, Jenatep nodded towards her, "Maybe you should ask, Ms. Granger."

Everyone stared at her. She couldn't breath. Ginny sheepish spoke, "Hermione?"

"H-he's joking right?" Harry asked almost begging for Hermione to stand up and tell him it was all a prank. Then they could go back to their lives and live as they were.

"Tell me he's joking."

Hermione stared at him silence, almost afraid to answer, especially now that Harry was rounding on her

"He can't be…" he whispered. Ginny tried to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off.

"Why didn't you tell me!"

"Would you have believed me!" Hermione yelled back, tears in her eyes. "How did you think I felt? We saw him die, and then to see him standing on two feet. I didn't believe it myself, how can I expect you to believe it?"

"A-are you sure it was him?"

"It wasn't just a walk-by, Harry. I spoke with him, and it was him."

Hermione pulled her focus to Jenatep, "But it all doesn't matter. He's dead. Killed by that…bastard."

Harry had a distinct feeling she wasn't talking about Voldemort.

Jenatep shook his head, "The Darkness is holding him in hell, but he is not yet dead and he never will be until the curse finds no further use for him. But you all have to ask yourselves…"

The stunned and shocked inhabitants of the room gave Jenatep their undivided attention.

"What are you willing to do to get him back? To thank him. To tell him you respect and hate him. To tell him how many lives he saved. How many children grew up because of him. To tell him that his statue stands proudly next to Albus Dumbledore's in the Hogwart's Trophy Room. Are you willing to enter a world of darkness, hate, anger, and anguish? To see horrors from the supernatural. To encounter lost and devoured souls. All that to get Severus Snape back."

There was silence, before Harry whispered, "I-I don't believe this…"

"No one said you had to Mr. Potter. Your job is to retrieve the prophecies," Jenatep focused his direction towards Hermione, "How about you Ms. Granger?"

When Hermione didn't answer right out, Jenatep chuckled darkly and opened the door for the staircase, "Of course, no living mortal can merely waltz into Severus Snape's hell. Let alone a pure one. You would need someone who has been touched by the Darkness enter it and to protect you."

As he said this, there were loud sounds of footsteps descending the stairs. They were boot steps, clunky and powerful as it slowly descended. She recognized the pattern and the gait.

No…it couldn't be…

Horror seized her body as the figure stepped through the doorway, pulling a pipe from his lips, pale slate-grey eyes glinting.

"So…who shall be leaving with me?"

* * *

A/N: Sinister cliffie:D It will all be slowly pieced together, I assure you. Please Review.


	20. Dead Men's Society

Disclaimer: This story that pisses you off is just a figment on my imagination, cramming as much crap into it as I can at this point. Only a few characters are officially mine.

Chapter 20: Dead Men's Society

Hermione stood in shock, conflicted in either crying or pulling out her wand and yelling at the figure savagely. So intent was her gaze on the figure that recently haunted her dreams, that she didn't see the confused gazes on the others. They hadn't recognized him, at least not immediately. Only Malfoy slowly rose from his seat, eyes narrowed on the man with grey hair, as if he had seen him before but couldn't place the name with the face.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ginny asked her friend, seeing Hermione rooted to the spot. Hermione didn't hear here.

"Mr. Washington and Ms. Granger had a recent run in," Jenatep explained vaguely. Harry's jaw clenched. He heard that name before. He knew that name from some time in his elementary education, but it could be an entirely different person.

Washington put the pipe back into his lips and tilted his shadowed chin up, regarding Hermione with scrutiny.

"Who the hell…?" Durandal cringed at the guest.

"Sure is," Harry said, glancing at Malfoy for brief second, before turning back to the stranger. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

The dead man's eyes narrowed, puffing a little at his pipe, "Aren't we all…?"

His eyes rested on Hermione, grey and cold, his face masterful. Every much the man who led a country of farmers against an empire over two centuries ago. His boot steps rang through her brain violently, and she didn't move even as he stood mere inches in front of her. He was staring down at her, silent, face full of sadness and remorse.

That just fueled her rage. She slapped him across the face.

"Hermione!" Ginny gasped and everyone shifted in their seats, prepared to prevent the dead man from hurting their friend. Washington didn't do anything threatening. He just stood there, his face etched in grief.

"You were a hero," Hermione seethed.

"I had not meant any harm on your person. You must understand."

No matter what this man said could've calmed her. Sensible Hermione seemed to take a time-out when this man was in the room. It may have been the 'connection' she had developed in America. She wanted it to go away. She wanted _him_ to go away. She felt so cold when he was standing in front of her.

"Normally I would ask that you would give respect to a guest in our county, but…"

Jenatep shut his mouth as soon as Washington glanced back at him.

"So this…" Harry was motioning between Hermione and the tall man in the white silk shirt and black vest, "…is what happened in the Americas."

Behind him Ginny cringed, murmuring, "You may want to rephrase that."

"Unfortunately, yes. And this doesn't bode well. Mr. Washington needs a safe place to stay, and I already had Ms. Granger in mind."

Hermione peered over the tall man's shoulder, eyes glaring at the mystic, "Excuse me?"

"You have room and you know Mr. Washington in a more…intimate way."

Hermione could've spit fire. She pushed past Washington and rounded on the mystic eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

"You've gone nutters, haven't you? You're still on the sauce."

"Afraid not, Ms. Granger."

"I refuse."

"That would not be prudent…"

"Prudence indeed,*" Washington twitched at that phrase. "Send him back to his country…and his time."

Jenatep shook his head, a little annoyed that he worked so hard to bring a dead man all the way here only to have it thrown in his face. Needless to say, he had no idea how to convince this woman to take Washington into her home until the proper moment. Well, there was one way.

"Do you resign Severus Snape to his miserable fate? Is that how you repay the man who helped you in America?"

Oh that was a low blow. Right in her gut. Yet, she had something else to say.

"Well, he wouldn't be there if it weren't for _him,_" she thrust an accusatory finger at Washington.

"And in his defense," Jenatep drawled, his normally deep calm voice holding a hard edge, "Washington would never be in this position if it weren't for Severus."

Another valid argument. Everyone knew, that despite this heated argument, when Hermione's lips thinned into a line, she had lost.

Meanwhile, Harry was staring curiously at George Washington were some sort of artwork. No doubt, Washington's clothing, though relatively loose and casual by 18th century standards, was still slightly odd for a modern wizard.

"As much as this is…fascinating, not to mention hard to believe," he stated, "How can you be so sure that Snape can indeed be brought back?"

Jenatep smirked, "A cat has nine lives, doesn't it?"

* * *

It was an awkward walk back home at night. Hermione had placed her robes over Washington's shoulders, making him less like a sore thumb. It certainly could've been worse, she figured. He could've been wearing full 18th century attire with coat and breeches included. He was in a white silk shirt and black vest with breeches and boots of the same dark color, making him blend in with the night, with the exception of his pale skin. His white skin almost shone in the night like the moon. He was sticking close to the walkways, near lights in the streets and roads. Washington was silent the whole time, obediently as if she had some invisible leash holding him. It wasn't the most comfortable situations she's ever been in.

Her street was quiet and she unlocked the door of her house, feeling Washington's presence behind, like a dominating shadow.

"Well, this is where I live, Mr. Washington," with a flick of her wand, Hermione lit her home and Rufus skitted right up to them to greet them. He took to sniffing Washington's boots, a small whine coming from the back of his throat. The tall man bent down and rubbed the small dog on the head, the corners of his thin lips upturned slightly.

"Rufus, leave him alone," Hermione said a little too harshly.

"He's alright," Washington said so softly, she barely heard him.

"Well, I'll show you around," she didn't sound too enthusiastic, but she gave him brief tour. She kept it short and sweet, feeling one of her headaches coming on. She was also very tired.

"Here's where you will sleep," she said as she showed him the one guest bedroom that doubled as Rose's room on the occasions her children stayed over. It was spartanly decorated with a large bed with white sheets. Washington stared at the bed, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Is it alright?" she asked, seeing his expression.

"It's fantastic," his deep rumble responded, "Finally, a bed that can fit my legs."

As much as she tried not to smile, she couldn't help but lift her lips. Most beds in the 1700s probably didn't fit him very well. Washington straightened and gazed out the window to the cobblestone streets.

"Lived as an English colonist for most of my life and had never seen my former 'mother' country with my own eyes."

"What? You can't be serious?"

Washington turned his face back to her, a curious look on his face.

"You've never been here? Didn't most well-to-do colonists go to Britian for some reason or another?"

The man chuckled, "We were not _that_ well to do. I've never been out of my country except for Barbados, though as a child I always wanted to be a captain for the King's Navy."

"Commanding an army is not far from that, I would imagine."

Washington was strangely silent, his gaze on the bed and expression hidden by the shadows.

Hermione crossed her arms and cleared her throat, "So…when do we…well…go to hell…if that is what we are calling it?"

"Not until the night of the new moon."

New moon? That's two nights away. How the hell is she supposed to deal with her stint in anachronism for two days? Rather complain in front of Washington she bid him goodnight leaving him in the guest room.

Finally, she got to bed, and fell asleep immediately, with Crookshanks snuggled up against her belly.

* * *

Loud, unidentifiable noises pierced the sky. The air was tight, humid, and heavy, but cold. His body felt strained as if he was torn into shreds, his stomach feeling especially torn. He opened his eyes, finding himself in a world of darkness and rust, the sky smoky and red. The noises became clearer. Explosions in the distance, yells, screams, gunshots, swords clashing, all piercing and familiar. He had been in this hell before.

Severus was suspended on an X-shaped cross facing against wretched lost souls.

The figures were all similar: bald, bleeding and scalped heads, mouths and noses gone into a melted bloody mess. The only thing that made them even remotely featured was the sunken and bruised eyes.

One of them took up a hammer and spike, nailing Severus' hands to the cross. They were going to keep him here and mount him with others where he belonged. On the hill. They were growling and snarling and the decrepit creature nailing his hands was somehow able to speak through his mind.

"Give it to us!" he growled. "It is not yours. It was never yours."

Severus couldn't respond blinded by the horror he was experiencing. Damn the Darkness. They could have it if they so wanted, but it would just destroy what was left of their miserable existence.

Severus could feel his breathing become labored as his lungs got used to the air and the adrenaline pumping in his system. The sharp ringing sound as hammer hit nail penetrated his ears, nearly causing them to bleed. The figures were grumbling and growling in mockery. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wanted to get out of here, before the monstrosity nailed his other hand completely to the cross.

He glanced at his nailed hand, bleeding, but it twitched. He could still move it.

The disfigured man backed away to look at his handy work. With a snarl, Severus, using as much strength as he was worth, tore his hand free from the cross, and wrenched the nail out from his other hand, and ramming the spike into the figure's face. It howled in pain and reeled back. Immediately, Severus dove out of the way as the others were firing old slow-action rifles at him. He didn't know if was shot or not the only burning pain was in his palms. He fished for the Prussian pistol in the figure's belt and shot back, before breaking into a run, bullets whistling.

He stumbled in through the no man's land diving into trenches made of charred corpses. He couldn't hear the bullets going after him anymore. Still, his heart rate was increasing, fearing these figures would stumble and limp after him.

The war still raged on in his ears, even though there were no armies, no clashing enemies to be seen. As his breathing slowed, he huddled next to the bodies, arms wrapped about his shins. He closed his eyes, swallowing the bile in his throat. He could feel a churning in his chest, deep within his gut, and in his brain.

Taking a seething breath, he gathered his wits and continued forward, body shaking. He worked his way up a desolated, dead hill, by a dead tree that he recognized. He placed his palm on the charred wood, feeling the Darkness inside it. Shoulders sinking, Severus let the reality seep in. This was his eternity. Spending it in this hellish memory chased by demons of time's past.

It was then when he noticed warmth. A light from above. There in blackness of clouds and smog, was a falcon, bright and beautiful, with feathers made of gold and silver. It soared overhead, circling the tree for a moment before shooting down towards him, growing larger in size. It landed in front of Severus in burst of blue-white light. In place of the white light was a smoky, ghost-like entity. He wore a towering crown, body covered in wraps, a scepter in his hands. He had seen a figure like this before on the tombs and papyrus. The spirit was imposing, several heads taller as he float in his haze.

"H-have you come for me?" Severus asked, meekly, still on his knees, shielding himself from the bright glory.

"To see you yes," the figure's voice was booming and masterful, and for the very moment, Severus was reminded of his plea to Dumbledore on that hill. He feared this godly entity of his mind, just as he feared Dumbledore then.

"You have no reason to fear me this day," the figure called.

"Don't I?" Severus gasped, eyeing the pharaoh. "Whom do I speak to?"

"In my time I was the judge who presided over the scales. A feather determined the fates of the dead who came across my path."

"Osiris?"

"That is what I am called and that is how you see me."

Osiris, Lord of the Underworld, floated towards the tree, caressing the bark, melting the char. "You do recognize this tree."

"In a way. It was much more beautiful in my memory."

"This is the tree you and Lily used to sit by, correct?" Osiris gazed at the bone-dry, charred, skeletal branches.

"Yes," Severus confessed unwittingly, "but it was healthier, full of leaves, green as her eyes."

The ghostly god chuckled, "It is best to hold onto some memories in this place. Though they will likely seek to pain your heart."

"Why have you appeared before me, spirit? To judge me?"

Osiris floated around, "No. I'm not your judge. I am your message of hope."

Relief filled Severus' chest like a calming flame. So he wasn't alone in this hell, even if Osiris wasn't the one he wanted to see by his favorite childhood tree.

"I cannot judge your soul, because it is torn and incomplete. Taken by the Darkness as it had done to a few others. It is not your time, Severus, and I hope that this isn't your fate."

Severus stared at the spirit, confused, "What am I to do?"

He sounded pathetic, like a whimpering child. He didn't fear hell, but he loathed it. Loathed having to accept it on a technicality. He was certainly one soul who would never truly rest in peace.

No matter how insignificant or pathetic he appeared Osiris didn't look at him with pity or compassion. It was hard strained look of an impartial judge. The white shade turned and extended an arm. Pointing.

Off in the red distance was a large black mass, with spiky and jutting towers, a castle entrenched in the wretches of history.

"Your answer lies within those walls. The Darkness has seized that castle in memoriam of the kings who entertained their whims with blood. You can find a way out of here."

Severus approached the edge of the hill to get a better look and swallowed. It certainly looked far away, and who knows what dangers ran in this world. He stared at his hands, bloody and punctured.

"How am I to defend myself?"

"Any means necessary. You have been here before…"

"But I never forced myself out."

Before he knew it the shade was in front of him, bearing down on him, "And now is the chance. Use the Darkness as you see fit. It is a part of you, but you CANNOT allow it to rule you as it does hell. Tearing past that castle will relinquish a part of its hold on you in death."

_Who are you going to believe?_

The Darkness had finally spoken and Osiris had heard it, his stern and emotionless face churning to distaste.

"You must go, Severus. I cannot stay here long, but I would not be here if I hadn't believed that you could reside free amongst the living."

Snape took a deep breath, eyes penetrating the castle and on impulse, he broke into a run.

"Don't listen to the Darkness, Severus. It will lie to protect itself," he heard Osiris' booming voice float after him.

_Don't listen to him. He lies…_

Lie indeed. Severus smirked inwardly. The god of the underworld, impartial to all, judge of all, does not lie.

* * *

In her fitful sleep, Hermione rolled into her unintelligible dreams, fighting against some, basking in others. She had dreams of Hugo, hugging Ron's girlfriend, Cassidy and calling her "mum". She had dreams of Rose showing her graduation diploma proudly to her father and stepmother while Hermione watched from the sidelines, not allowed to enter the ceremony. Suddenly, she became aware of a yellow light blinding her through her lids, interrupting her horrible dreams.

She jerked awake, aware of a presence in the room and she grabbed her wand from the nightstand, pointing it at her guest. Washington's hand was under the shade of her night lamp.

"What in god's name are you doing!" she screeched, feeling surprise and embarrassment at having a man in her bedroom. She pulled the covers up to her pajama-covered chest.

Washington didn't look at all put off by her furious face.

"Ms. Granger, it is in your best interest to keep yourself in the light when I'm around," Washington explained coolly, passionlessly.

"What?"

Washington just turned and left her room, sucked into the darkness of the night.

Hermione stared after the man, and glanced at the night-light. She figured it had something to do with the Darkness. If that was the case she would gladly sleep with the lights on.

* * *

A/N: Yeah...I hear you. I know this pisses everyone off including me. But I feel obligated to update every now and again.


End file.
